


I want to kiss you sometime

by FlowersOnMyMind



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 1993, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Brief suicidal thoughts, Bullying, Cheerleader Richie, Coming Out, F/M, Good Parents Maggie & Wentworth Tozier, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Richie Tozier Whump, Senior year, The Losers are 18, This started out a cute fic, Track star Eddie, but I had to have some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:02:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22286053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlowersOnMyMind/pseuds/FlowersOnMyMind
Summary: Who knew that what the Derry cheer squad was missing, was Richie Tozier.orRichie becomes a cheerleader and Eddie doesn't know why, but he loves to watch him.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier & Greta Bowie, The Losers Club & Richie Tozier
Comments: 155
Kudos: 414





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ~This is my fourth story in the It fandom, but it's my first Reddie! The title is from The Rolling Stones' song _Miss You_. This story w ill have things from the book and the movie. I'm sorry if Eddie comes across s being mean. I'm trying to go off the movie version of him.~

Eddie thought Richie had been joking. Because when is Richie ever serious? About anything? And since when has Richie cared about filling his time with anything other than video games and comics? Never, if you ask Eddie Kasprack. 

The bell rang, signaling that their last first week of their high school career had ended. As he and Richie walk out of English and down the hall, Richie was going on about some comic he had bought, when Stan joined them. 

"Will you please shut the fuck up? I swear the only reason you live is to annoy the hell out of me," Eddie spat. Stan rolled his eyes at the two, tired of watching the two dance around each other. 

"Hey," Richie said suddenly, "check it out!" He points to the school bulletin board, littered with school announcements and club and sport sign up sheets. 

"And what exactly are we looking at?" Stan asked. 

"Cheerleader sign-ups! Whaddya think, Eds?" Richie put a hand on one hip and the other behind his head, "Think I would look good in a cheerleader uniform?" 

"I think you'd look ridiculous and because of you, Mike would lose every game. In fact, all the players would projectile vomit on the field."

Richie's hands drop. "Eddie my love, you really know how to hurt a guy." 

"Come on, you two. We have to meet up with the others."

"Eager to see your boyfriend?" Richie teased. 

"Mike is not my boyfriend," Stan grumbled, glowering at Richie. 

"I never said a name, Stannie!" Cackled Richie. 

Stan pushed him and walked off. And that had been the end of the cheerleading. Or so Eddie thought. 

Eddie didn't think about it again until he and Ben were on their way to the cafeteria to meet up with the others, the following week. Ben had stopped, taking a pen out of his pocket. "Hold on a minute," he says as he begins writing his name on one of the many sheets of paper stapled and tacked on the bulletin board. Eddie peers over his shoulder. "What are you signing up for?"

"There's a poetry contest coming up and I...I don't know." He shrugs. 

"I'm sure you'll win. All those poems you write for Bev are great." Eddie grins encouragingly at his friend.

Ben blushes. 

"Thanks, Eddie." Ben smiles 

Eddie grins back and his eye catches something on the board. He turns his head to look at it fully. About ten signatures down on the Cheerleaders sign up sheet is Richie's messy scrawl. 

"What the hell?" He says, stepping closer. "That fucking idiot," he mutters. 

"What is it?" Ben looks too. He then chuckles, "That's our Richie. He'll do anything to get people to laugh. Wouldn't it be great if he really made the...Eddie! Wait!" Eddie is already halfway down the hall, grumbling under his breath. 

He walks through the lunchroom and out the doors, leading outside to the picnic tables the Losers always ate at. Everyone was already there. Beverly is sitting on the tabletop, one leg thrown over the other, cigarette tucked behind her ear, ready to smoke it as soon as everyone was finished eating. Mike and Bill were engaged in a conversation, while Stan listened as he picked at his sandwich. Richie was guzzling his Coca-cola, but when he saw Eddie he smiles. "Eds!" Coke dribbles down his chin and Eddie looks at him in disgust. 

"You're disgusting," he grumbles as he sits down beside him, leaving the spot closest to Beverly for Ben. As Eddie unpacks his lunch Richie talks and talks. 

Finally, Eddie says, "I saw the sign-up sheet. Cheerleading? Really? You don't know anything about cheerleading! You're going to embarrass yourself even more than you do daily!"

"What's going on?" Mike asks, leaning on the table to look at their end. 

"Richie signed up for Cheerleading tryouts," Ben tells them. 

"You actually signed up?" Stan asks. "I thought you were joking about that." 

"I'm going to be the best fucking cheerleader Derry High has ever seen!" Richie promises. 

"You do know you're just giving Bowers and his goons more fuel to beat the crap out of you, right?" 

Richie drapes an arm around Eddie's shoulders and pulls him close. "Eds! You do care! You're worried about little old me?"

Eddie pushes him. "Get off me! I bet when you go to try out, you fall flat on your face!" 

The rest of the Losers laugh and begin throwing jokes and comments in. 

A few days later, the Losers are eating lunch. Richie runs over to them. "I got in!" 

Eddie nearly jokes on his apple. "What?!"

"Yeah, I'm the only boy who signed up and they need some muscle!" 

"And they got stuck with you?" 

"Eds, you hurt me. You really do!" 

"Just shut up!" 

"Okay, enough!" Beverly says, "Richie, you really got on the team?"

"I think we're called a squad," Richie scratches his chin, thinking for a moment. "But yes!"

"You do realize Greta and her bitches are on the _squad_ , right?" Beverly says, using air quotations when she says, _squad_.

"Yeah, they didn't look impressed, but who cares! I still made it!" 

"I give it a week," Eddie mutters biting into his apple. "It's just like when Richie wanted to learn how to play the drums." 

"I learned a little!"

"Or when he wanted to learn how to juggle," Bill adds. 

"I almost had it!"

"Or how about the time when he wanted to learn French and he only learned curse words," Mike says. 

"Allez vous faire foutre, les gars!" Richie exclaims, taking his seat next to Eddie and sulking. 

The first game of the season has always been important because Mike has been the quarterback for the past year, and now instead of Richie sitting in the stands with the rest of the Losers cheering him on, he will be down by the field cheering him on. It will be the first time any of his friends see him cheer and he won't ever admit this to any of his friends, but he's nervous. More than nervous, he's scared out of his mind. 

He's waiting outside of the girl's locker room, dressed in the Derry high white and green cheerleading uniform; white tennis shoes, white pants with the green stripes down either leg and matching shirt. He even opted out for contacts instead of his glasses. He didn't want anything to go wrong tonight. He had tried to tame his messy curls, but that had been a lost cause. 

The door opens and out comes Greta Bowie, the cheer captain. She leans against the wall opposite of him, smacking on her gum and every so often blowing a bubble. It popped loudly in the empty hall. Richie never liked Greta. Especially since she's always so mean to Beverly and his friends. And he downright hated her when Eddie broke his arm when they were 13 and she wrote Loser across his cast. Richie had tried to fix it by writing a large red V over the S of Loser. And even though Eddie grinned, it still stung.

But she hasn't been so cruel to him since he joined the squad. 

"Nervous?"

He swallows thickly and laughs timorously. "Heh, no way. I'm going to kickass out there..."

"You're about to crap your pants, am I right?" 

"...Yes! Okay, I'm nervous! I'm scared I'm going to trip and fall on my face or forget the words to one of the cheers and everyone will laugh at me! And Eddie will say, _I told you so!_ Eddie would never let me live it down. He would make fun of me till we were crippling old men! Happy now?"

She studies him for a moment. "My first time out on the field, I kept thinking _I'm going to mess up, I'm going to mess up_. But I didn't. It was just my nerves. You're not half bad at cheerleading. And you've been to every practice and you've been working hard. You're going to do great." 

Richie was speechless. Was Greta just...nice to him? 

"Greta..." He says in awe, "That's so nice of..."

"Besides, if you mess up, I'll beat to the shit out of you." She pops her gum again before pushing off the wall and going back into the locker room. 

"Of course." He tilts his head back onto the wall. 

"The cheerleaders are coming out!" Ben announces and all of the Losers look down towards the field. 

"I see Richie!" Beverly points off to the left of the squad. 

Richie looks up and even this far away Eddie can see Richie's wide smile. He waves excitedly at the Losers, his pompoms going back and forth wildly.

The marching band plays loudly and the cheerleaders begin cutting flips and cheering. Richie drops his pompoms to lace his fingers together and Barbra Smith steps into his hands and he thrusts her up. She flips in the air and lands on the ground. 

"Oh wow!" Ben exclaims from his spot next to Beverly. 

They all cheer Richie on; standing and shouting, "Go Richie!" And "Way to go Rich!" 

"He looks like he's having fun," Bill says once they sit back down. 

And Eddie has to admit, he does. Richie is all smiles. Eddie never paid attention to the squad, even at his track meets. Richie brings enthusiasm as if he were the sunshine that lit up the darkness. Who knew that what the Derry cheer squad was missing, was Richie Tozier. 

The cheerleaders run off the field and the football players come into sight. And now the Losers are cheering wildly for Mike. 

Eddie never cared about football. He thought it was boring. What's entertaining about guys running up and down the field with a ball and smashing into each other? Going to Bill's baseball games is alright, but even then he loses interest fast and has to find something to entertain himself. Usually, he talks to Richie at games. At least he can look forward to the cheerleader performing.

The cheerleaders perform again at half-time and Eddie definitely does not cheer louder than any of the other Losers. Eddie never, in a million years, thought Richie would be good at cheerleading of all things, but there he is, out on the field cutting flips and dancing in sync with the others. Eddie feels a tightness in his chest and it takes him several minutes to realize what it is; he's proud of Richie.

In a small-minded town such as Derry, a boy wouldn't even think of becoming a cheerleader or anything considered... _girly_. Eddie just knows that Bowers and his gang are going to eat this up. Richie is already a huge target because of his mouth, but now that he's a cheerleader...Eddie makes a mental list of medical supplies he needs to stock up on just case. 

Derry wins against Bangor and the home stands rise, screaming, arms throw in the air, people jumping up and down. Mike, not being too close to anyone but the Losers, including his teammates, runs over to the cheerleaders and hugs Richie. 

Beverly laughs. "Oh no," she says, covering her mouth with her hand. 

"What?" Ben asks. 

"Looks like a football player hugging his cheerleader boyfriend." 

And that makes Eddie look at them again. Mike and Richie are not embracing each other anymore, but Richie has his hands on Mike's arms, and Mike has his hands settled on Richie's hips. They're talking to each other with such excitement that Eddie wishes he knew what they were saying. Eddie frowns at that. 

"That's bullshit," Eddie says, not knowing what else to say. 

Beverly, still grinning, shrugs. "Maybe Richie joined the squad so that he could see Mike more." 

"That isn't fucking funny, Bev!" 

Beverly just giggles. "You know I'm joking. Mike only has eyes for our Stanny." 

Eddie glances over to see if Stan heard, but the curly-haired boy is too engrossed in a conversation with Bill. He couldn't care less about Stan and Mike right now. All he cares about is Richie...Richie and Mike. 

Eddie knows Mike is head over heels in love with Stan and Stan with him. But just the thought of Richie dating someone is...is weird. Eddie doesn't like it and he immediately tries to think of a reasonable reason why he doesn't. 

It's because he's Richie. Richie doesn't date. None of the Losers do, except for Ben and Beverly, but they're actual soulmates. And Mike and Stan have been dancing around each other for years now. Bill is too focused on his writing and baseball. Eddie hasn't ever been interested in anyone and besides, he has the Losers and track. And Richie, Richie just...doesn't date. Eddie doesn't know why. 

_Probably because he's so fucking annoying, no one could put up with him._ He muses. 

"You coming, Eddie?" Ben asks. 

Eddie looks up to see Ben standing on the stand in below him, while the others are already walking down the stairs. 

"Yeah," he says as he stands. 

"You alright?" 

Eddie grins. Typical Ben. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just daydreaming. Let's go." 

On the way to the locker room, Richie grins, his heart still pounding from the adrenaline, body warm and sweaty. He didn't mess up once! And quite a few times he glanced up and saw the Losers cheering for him, including Eddie which surprised Richie. He never thought Eddie would come around to Richie being a cheerleader. 

"Tozier!" 

Richie stops and turns around. 

"Yes, Greta?" For some reason he's scared. She most likely came to yell at him. In Richie's eyes he didn't mess up any of the dances or cheers, but maybe in Greta's eyes, he did. 

"You did good." 

With wide eyes, he opens his mouth but closes it, lost for words. What has this world come to? Greta is being nice and she was nice, sort of, earlier. 

"I mean, for an amateur." 

And Richie, with his big stupid mouth, says, "Oh, I didn't know I was in the presence of a professional cheerleader!" He bows dramatically. 

Greta stares for a moment and Richie thinks, 'This is it. I fucked up and now I'm off the squad! Dammit, Tozier!' 

But she smiles. "Shut up, Tozier!" She punches his arm, rather hard. 

"Ow," Richie says weakly as he rubs the sore spot. 

"See you at practice Monday." With a pop of her gum, she walks past him and into the girl's locker room. 

Still rubbing his arm where Greta punched him, he grins and walks into the boy's locker room to change. 

When he walks out of the stadium, he spots his friends by the entry gates. 

Beverly sees him first and her face lights up. "Richie!" She shouts, getting the rest of the Losers' attention. She runs to him and soon he has an arm full of Beverly Marsh. Her thin, freckled arms wrap around his neck and he winds his arms around her waist and spins her around. 

"You were so good!" She yells excitedly in his ear.

He chuckles as he sets her back down, though, her arms stay on his shoulders, and he keeps his hands on her waist. 

"Thanks." He's grinning so wide, his cheeks hurt. 

The rest of their friends make it to them. Ben and Bill pat him on the back, Mike rests his hands on Richie's shoulders and jostles him. Even Stan comments on a few of the moves he did. Richie looks to Eddie, waiting nervously, for the shorter boy's reaction. 

Eddie rolls his eyes light-heartedly. "As much as I hate to admit it, Rich, you were great." 

Richie's chest tightens so much he feels dizzy. "Thanks, Eds." He says this quietly, but then louder he says, "Are we going out for some celebratory pizza or what?" 

Then all of the Losers are talking at once. 

"No olives!"

"Extra cheese!" 

"Can we get stuffed crust?"

"Sausage and Pepperoni!"

Richie chances a glance at Eddie, to find him watching him. They hold eye contact for a moment before Richie is pulled away by Beverly. "I'm riding with you, Rich! Shotgun!" 

And Richie lets him be pulled away to his black 1970 Mustang. And when he looks back at Eddie, he's talking to Bill and Mike, but once again, Eddie looks up and their eyes meet.


	2. Chapter 2

Eddie thinks he's woken up in some parallel universe. Things like this just don't happen, not to him, not to a member of the Losers Club. 

Greta Bowie just...apologized. To him. 

He grips the straps of his backpack and looks at her with wide-eyed and slack-jawed. She's leaned against the lockers, smacking her gum loudly, as if waiting for his reply. 

"Uh, what?"

She rolls her eyes and sighs. "I said I'm sorry, you know, for the cast thing. And my dad didn't tell me you had cancer...on your dick. I'm sorry about that too." 

Eddie swallows thickly. "Um, okay." 

And Eddie isn't sure how to go about this. He had known the cancer thing was a lie. Although, he had stayed awake the whole night wondering if he really did have cancer. And he had to wear that cast for 8 weeks with the word 'Loser' scrawled across it. It had been embarrassing and he got teased even more than usual for it, even after Richie tried to fix it. But he finds himself saying, "Apology accepted." 

She nods at him and then pushes off the lockers. He watches as she makes her way down the hall, still not believing what just happened. 

Eddie is once again shocked, even more so than Greta apologizing to him, a few days later when Greta walks up to them in Freddie's Malt Shop. She pulls a chair up, turns it around and straddles it. She then reaches over and takes Richie's vanilla ice cream cone from him. 

Licking it, she says, "So, Mary Beth is hosting a sleepover this Friday. Her parents didn't want you to stay the night, but I told her to just tell them you're gay. She did and now you can stay the whole night." 

No one sees the way Richie tenses, no one except Eddie. But Eddie doesn't ponder on it long. He's too busy thinking how much he doesn't want Richie to go to that sleepover.

Richie soon smiles. "And who says Cheerleaders are bimbos! That my fair lady was genius!" 

Greta smiles at him over the cone. "Thanks, Rich. Bring some chips, okay?"

"Sure," Richie says nonchalantly, eyeing his ice cream wishfully. 

"I'm bringing drinks. Want anything specific?"

"Coke?"

"You got it." 

_Greta is acting like she and Richie are...friends? There's no way Richie could be friends with someone like Greta,_ Eddie thinks. 

Sure, there are a few guys on track that talk to him at practices and he knows Mike is on good terms with the rest of the football team, but it's always just been the seven of them. 

She hands his cone back to Richie and stands. "See you at practice." Greta makes eye contact with Beverly and quickly looks away before leaving. 

Richie waves to her, licking his ice cream. 

"That's disgusting!" Eddie shouts. "Do you have any idea how many germs are in the human mouth?" 

"Aw, what's a little ice cream shared between friends?" He smirks at Eddie before adding, "Wanna let me have a lick of yours, Eds?"

Eddie scrunches his face in disgust. 

"I would rather die." He wouldn't. 

"So, you and Greta are _friends_ now?" Beverly asks in disbelief. 

Richie shrugs.

Beverly huffs as she leans back in her chair. "She's a bully, Richie." 

"She did apologize to me the other day," Eddie says, "about what she did to my cast." He still can't believe that. He's wondered if Richie asked her to do it, but from what he knows, Greta Bowie doesn't do anything she doesn't want to do. 

"Yeah, she apologized for being such a bitch to me too, but she's a bully. What would you do if I started hanging out with Henry Bowers?"

"Greta isn't anything like Bowers, Bev," Richie tells her. "And you know what, yeah, we are friends." He's a little defensive. Yes, he understands why Beverly is upset. But Greta had told him she apologized to his friends. She's trying to do better. 

He's been on the squad for a month now, and he's gotten to know her pretty well. He's willing to give her a chance. And if she hadn't apologized to Beverly and Eddie, there's no way he would have even considered being friends with her. The Losers come first. Always. 

"I don't like it." Beverly says curtly, but her next words were soft, yet serious, "You're just going to end up getting hurt, Richie." 

Eddie feels relieved by this. He's glad he's the only one who doesn't like Richie's new friendship with Greta Bowie. He wishes he knew why he didn't like it. It's just...weird. 

Richie planning on going to hang out with people on a Friday night that's not the Losers is just weird. 

"I'll be fine, Molly, don't worry!" Beverly reaches across the table to pinch his arm. 

When Richie gets home he smells a combination of fresh-baked cookies and pot roast. He finds his mother flitting around the kitchen; taking a tray of cookies out of the oven, stirring something in a pot on the stove, basting the pot roast on the counter, wiping her hands on her stained apron. 

When her back is turned he quickly shoves a cookie in his mouth and burning it on the scalding chocolate chips. "I saw that, Richard!" 

"Aow?" He asks, his mouth still full and hurting. "Er ack wah tuhrrned?"

She chuckles, turning around. She waves a wooden spoon at him, "A mother knows." 

He walks to the fridge, needing milk to cool off his mouth. 

"How are your friends?" She's sprinkling pepper into the pot now.

"They're good," Richie says as he pours milk into a glass before leaning over to look in the pot. It's mashed potatoes. His mother scoops some onto the spoon for him and he takes it and starts licking the mashed potatoes off. 

"Oh hey, Mary Beth is having a sleepover on Friday. Is it okay if I go?"

"Is it alright with her parents?"

Richie's heart clenches when he remembers the reason why he's even allowed to go. "Yes." 

She turns to look at him with a smile. "Then, of course, you can go." 

She reaches her hand out and cups his jaw. "Honey, your father and I are so sorry we couldn't make it your first game." 

Richie smiles. "I know you guys had to work."

"We'll be there next time, I promise! And you didn't hear this from me, but," she leans in close and lowers her voice, "your father cried when he found out he couldn't be there for you." 

Richie's chest tightens at this and he smiles. "It's okay, really. The guys were there."

She kisses his forehead. "Get ready for dinner. And no more cookies! And wipe your mouth. You have a milk mustache! You look like Colonel Sanders!" 

Richie huffs out a laugh as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

On Friday, Richie suddenly didn't want to attend this sleepover. He hardly gave it any thought all week. But when he ate breakfast the morning of the sleepover, it sunk in. He was going to be spending time with people who aren't the Losers, outside of school. He's never done that before. He doesn't know how to act around, well, anyone, but especially people who aren't the Losers. 

His chest felt heavy with anxiety and he could barely concentrate on his classes. 

It didn't help that Beverly teased him about it the whole day. 

"They're just going to do makeovers and gossip," She had said to him at lunch. 

"And if they do a makeover on you, you'll end up looking like a clown!" Eddie joked.

Richie tried to brush them off and throw some jokes back at them like, "Yeah, right! I'll put Jennifer Anniston to shame!" or "Would you like it if I wore makeup, Eds?" 

He's fit in with the girls at practice, but he's never hung out with them otherwise. What if it ends up being a disaster? And he's kicked off the squad? Richie _loves_ cheerleading. It's become an outlet for him. It helps with his anxiety and he sleeps better at night. He doesn't know what he would do if he wasn't on the squad anymore. 

So, when Friday night rolled around he drives over to Mary Beth's house. He sits in his car for a good 15 minutes before getting out. With his backpack slung over one shoulder and a bag full of chips in his hand, he walks up to the door. Looking down at the bag of chips, he suddenly thinks he should turn back and leave to get more. He doesn't know if the girls even like Nacho Cheese Doritos or Funyns. He got a bag of tortilla chips as well. Maybe it's not enough! Maybe he misunderstood Greta and he was supposed to bring something else! He should leave...he should...

The door opens and Mary Beth grins. "Hi, Richie!" 

Mary Beth is a sweet girl. She's always nice to him. She's shy and Richie doesn't understand how one can be shy and a cheerleader. She's small, Richie being a foot taller than her and dainty. He likes throwing her the best during cheers. 

"Hi," he says. "Um, here!" He thrust the bag of chips out and she takes it, opening it to peer inside. 

She grins. "Thanks, Richie. Come in, come in!" She moves aside and lets Richie step into her house. She closes the door behind him. "The girls are in the living room, right through there. I'm going to put these away. Would you like something to drink?"

He wants to reply with something like, _You mean what's my poison, sweetheart,_ in New York accent or _A mint julip sounds mighty fine right about now,_ in a Southern accent. But instead what comes out is, "Um, a c-coke if you have any." 

She nods. "Coming right up!" She disappears into the kitchen and Richie wants to follow her. Mary Beth is safe. 

_Now you're stuttering like Bill. Nice gong, Tozier!_

But he walks through the living room entryway. Angela is laying on the couch on her stomach, feet covered by fizzy yellow slippers, legs crossed at the ankles as she flips through a magazine. Briana is on the floor, back against the couch, magazine in her hands. Every so often one would turn their magazine to show the other something. Greta is blowing on her nails and waving her other, having just painted them. Rose is on her stomach, on the floor in front of the TV, remote in her hand as she flips through channels, her knees bent, feet in the air. Jasmine is eating Twizzlers as she lays on her side next Rose.

Mary Beth appears from behind him. "Here you go, Richie." She holds out a can of coke towards him. 

This gets everyone's attention. They all greet him warmly. 

"Finally!" Greta says, "Richie, come here!" 

He looks at Mary Beth and smiles, holding his coke up as a salute. "Thank you." 

He walks over to Greta and sets his bag on the floor before sitting across from her. 

"What color?" She drags a large caboodle over between them filled with all sorts of tools, Richie is guessing is for nails, and nail polishes of all colors. 

"Um," he looks at her nails that are painted a pale pink. "You're nails are already painted." 

"Not for _me_. For you!" 

"I don't want my nails painted," he says quickly. 

"Oh, come on! Please!" She pops her gum.

"Are you always chewing gum?"

She blows a bubble, grinning around it. "Yepp."

"Why?"

"It's better than smoking." 

Maybe he should suggest chewing gum to Beverly. She used to smoke like a chimney, but since dating Ben, she's slacked off a bit. They were always trying to get her to quit. 

Richie reaches over and tries to pop Greta's new bubble, but she jerks out of the way, popping it herself. 

"You're no fun," whines Richie. 

"And you're avoiding my question. Now, what color?"

He looks swallows thickly, looking at all of the color choices again. He's always liked the idea of having nails painted, always watched his mother paint hers in fascination. She's asked him many times if he wanted her to paint his nails for him. But he always declines. 

_If I show up to school with my nails painted then Bowers will beat my ass._ He imagines the names he would be called and dread fills his chest. 

_But Bowers is suspended for two weeks, so maybe it will be okay if I pick a manly color._ He thinks even though it didn't matter what color his nails were, he'll get grief from Bowers eventually no matter what. _What's not a girly color? Red? No, mom paints her nails red all the time. Dark blue? Black? Yeah, black!_

"Do you have black?"

"No, sorry, but I think your nails would look good this color." She plucks a bottle from the caboodle. It's yellow. The kind of yellow that reminds Richie of Easter. 

He swallows around the lump growing in his throat and holds his left hand out. Greta smiles hugely and Richie is happy it's because of him, but he feels like crying. His throat aches and he prays Greta won't notice the tears in his eyes. 

"I have to file them first, okay?" She takes out a metal nail file and begins sawing his nails down and shaping them. She finishes that rather quickly and blows the nail dust from them. She then takes his left hand and rests it on her thigh and bends over his hand so she can look more closely at his nails. 

Rose reaches over and opens his coke for him and he grins at her appreciatively. He sips on it nervously as he watches Greta work. 

When she's done with his left hand she rests it on his thigh, instructing him not to move it until she says before moving onto his right hand. He doesn't dare move his hand, not wanting to mess up Greta's work. When she's finished with his right, she picks up his left, inspects it. 

"This one's dry." 

"Do you want the same color on your toes?"

His toes?! He's already risking so much by painting his nails! But looking at his fingernails, he really, really likes the way it looks. He's in it this far. Might as well do his toes too. And besides, no one will see his toes. Richie just always avoids anything that would make someone even suspect him being...

"So same color?" 

He nods. 

And then she gets to work removing his shoes and socks. Before she starts painting his toes, she looks up and with serious expression says, "If anyone makes fun of you for having your nails painted, you tell me and I'll deal with them, okay?" 

Affection washes over Richie. 

_How sweet,_ he thinks. But the mind is a dangerous place and before he knows it awful scenarios play through his mind. Bowers and his gang beating the shit out of him and calling him names, worse than ever before because he has his nails painted; because he's a cheerleader now. 

He swallows again, looking down at his lap before nodding. 

"Hey," she says, "Richie, there's nothing wrong with...painting your nails."

Something in her voice makes Richie look up quickly. Does she know? How could she? Richie is so careful! He looks away from her again and takes a swig from his soda. He then looks around to see if anyone heard, but they're all still wrapped up in their own things to pay him any mind. Why did he agree to come? He should be at home right now, reading comics or have Eddie come over so they can joke around like they always do on the weekends. 

Greta puts these foamy things between his toes to separate them and Richie grins, hearing Eddie's voice in his head. _That's so unsanitary! You're going to get some funky foot fungus!_

He chuckles, making Greta look up with a grin. "What?"

"Nothing, just thinking about Eddie." 

"The one who used to wear a fannypack all the time?"

Richie nods. 

"You two seem close. What's he's like? All I know is that he's on the track team and he thinks he has every disease in the world. He used to basically live in my dad's pharmacy."

Richie chuckles again. "Yeah, he's gotten better. He still worries a lot though. He's...chaotic. And loud, but he can be sweet. He tries to take care of all of us. Like one time, I tripped when we were at the Quarry and I scraped my knee. He totally flipped his shit. He made me sit down while he got out peroxide and Neosporin and bandages. Like what 13-year-old carries that stuff with him?" He smiles, looking down at his lap. "He didn't let me get back in the water because he said it would get infected. He sat with me on the cliff while everyone else swam." 

Greta is watching him closely and Richie knows he's made a mistake. His smile falls and his eyes widen a fraction. "And uh, you know, there's Beverly." He goes on and on about Beverly before moving onto Mike, and then Stan and Bill and Ben. 

_There,_ he thinks, _I've talked about all of the Loser equally. Now, Greta doesn't suspect anything, right?_

She finishes his toes. "What do you think?"

He holds his hands out in front of him, fingers spread as he inspects each nail and then looks down at his toes. 

They look great. 

A tightness forms in his chest, but this time it's not from anxiety or dread. 

He finds himself smiling. 

Looking up at Greta he says, "I love them!" 

She chuckles. "I'm glad." 

Eddie throws the book he's been trying to read for the last hour down on his bed. He lets out a frustrated sigh. He can't concentrate on anything. He's tried listening to the radio, reading, doing homework. He thought about going downstairs to watch TV, but his mom is in the living room watching reruns of I Love Lucy. And he doesn't want to be around her right now. She'll know something is wrong. 

And nothing is really _wrong_. He's just...distracted. 

By Richie. 

What could Richie have in common with Greta and her squad? 

_Why would Richie want to hang out with them when he could be hanging out with me...Uh, the Losers! He could be hanging out me and the Losers!_

"Eddie!" 

Eddie sighs, rolling his eyes. He goes over to his door and opens it. 

"Yes, mommy?" He calls down. 

"The episode with John Wayne is on! Do you want to watch it with me?" 

"I'm doing homework!"

"Well, you could take a break! You don't want to get a headache, do you?"

"No, mommy! But I really want to finish it tonight!"

"Well, alright! But come down later! I've hardly seen you since you got home from school!"

"Okay!" 

He closes his door and leans his back against it. With a sigh, he slides down until his butt hit the floor. 

Usually, if he can talk his mom into it, he goes to Richie's house either Friday or Saturday night. He has yet to convince her to let him stay the whole weekend. He's never stayed away from home for more than one night, not even to Bill's house, whom his mother likes. Well, Bill is only one of his friends his mother tolerates, but she's still talked badly about his stutter. 

Maybe he can convince her by next weekend. 

The pizza arrives a little while later and they all flock to it. Angela reads their horoscopes out of her magazine and Briana reads the latest gossip on Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman out of hers. 

"Who's the hottest boy in school?" Rose asks. 

"Definitely John Lemons," Angela says. 

"Ew! No way! It's George Harris!" Exclaims Briana. 

"I think Bill Denbrough," Mary Beth says shyly, looking down at his lap and tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. 

"Bill is pretty hot!" Jasmine says. 

"Who is the hottest girl in school, Richie?" Jasmine asks him. 

"Oh, um, Beverly Marsh." Bev is gorgeous, Richie has always thought so. 

"And the hottest guy?" Briana asks. 

"I...I don't..."

"Just tell us! We won't tell anyone! It's just for fun!"

Richie looks at his hands in his lap and focuses on the pale yellow paint. It brings comfort to him. 

Greta, who is seated next to him, looks at him and then turns to the girls, "What are we watching tonight?"

"It was Rose's turn to bring the movies." 

"What'd you bring, Rose?"

"Pretty In Pink, Dirty Dancing, Princess Bride, Moonstruck, and Can't Buy Me Love." 

Greta nudges Richie with her shoulder. "Which do you want to watch first, Rich?"

He's only seen Princess Bride because his parents love that one. And he says as much. His parents are always quoting the movie. 

_Went, will you take out the trash?_

_As you wish._

_Inconceivable!_

_My name is Ingo Montoya! You killed my father, prepare to die!_

"Wait, you have to watch Dirty Dancing!" Rose exclaims, bringing him out of his thoughts.

She gets up and finds it in the stack of tapes and puts it into the VCR. 

Greta leans into him. "It's a good movie. You'll like it." 

Soon, the coffee table is littered with chips, dips, candy, popcorn, and sodas. Greta grabs the Doritos and puts the bag in front of them. Richie scoops up some candy. 

Richie _loves_ Dirty Dancing, more than the Princess Bride. In fact, it's probably his favorite movie now. He makes a mental note to buy the VHS tape and album. 

As Rose puts Pretty in Pink in the VCR he turns to Greta and says, "How about a kiss, Greta?"

She whips her head around to look at him with wide eyes, only to find him holding out his hand with a Hershey Chocolate Kiss in the palm of his hand. 

"Oh!" She laughs and shoves him hard. He cackles and throws the Kiss at her. 

Eddie lets out his 10th frustrated sigh of the evening. He's laid in bed for hours doing nothing. That's a lie. He's thought about Richie. Richie hanging out with the cheerleaders and not him...not the Losers. He hates himself for feeling this way. It's not really jealousy...is it? He just feels...strange. It's hard to explain. 

He just never thought that any of the Losers would find other friends outside of their group. Especially Richie because even though he doesn't act like it often, Richie loves the Losers with all his heart. And Eddie has no doubt he that he still does, but now he's sharing his love with other people. What if...he spends less and less time with Eddie and the Losers? What if Richie just becomes another face in the hallway at school?

 _No, dammit! That's not going to fucking happen! I won't let it! Richie is ours!_ Eddie vows, hugging his pillow to his chest as he stares up at the ceiling. 

"Eddie!" 

"Dammit!" He hisses, praying his mother just leaves him alone, which he knows she won't ever do. 

"Eddi _e_!"

He jerks out of bed and stomps over to the door. "WHAT?"

"Eddie bear, you don't yell at me! I was just telling you dinner is ready!" 

Eddie sighs and leaves his room, slamming the door loudly. 

His mom grounds him for the rest of the weekend. 

The girls gossip about the ins and outs of town and school. Mary Beth stands on her knees behind Richie and braids his hair. Small braids because even though his hair is rather long, it only hangs just above his shoulders. After a while, Angela gets up and turns the stereo on and Uptown Girl by Billy Joel is playing. Richie stands and whisks Mary Beth up and dances around the room with her. Soon, all the girls are dancing and acting silly. 

It's...different. Really different than when he hangs out with the Loser, but it's also really nice. Richie didn't think he would have a good time. He never thought he could find friends other than the Losers, and even though, no one will ever take their place, he's happy he's found friends within his squad. 

At 1:00 AM, they turn in. Mary Beth and Rose get up to go to her bedroom, while Angela and Briana take the guest room. Jasmine takes the couch and Greta and Richie sleep on pallets on the floor they made themselves. 

"So," Greta begins rolling onto her side to look at Richie, "What did you think of your first Cheerleading sleepover?"

"It was great. I didn't know what to expect, really. When we have sleepovers we usually eat junk and watch movies. Or if I sleepover with Bill, I read his latest story he's working on or with Stan we just talk. And Eddie spends the night a lot and we bicker and trash each other's mothers. This was really fun though."

"If you want, I can take the nail polish off."

Richie almost says he wants it off, but that would be a lie. He 'loves' the way his nails look right now. 

"No, I like it."

"I'm glad. I can do it again for you some time." 

"I'd like that."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~There is a slight mention of a racist/discrimination person against a religion. It is canon in the book, but I still feel like I should warn y'all. I'm really nervous about posting this chapter because I feel like it isn't good. Let me y'all what think, please!~

Richie had been nervous to face his friends on Monday. He thought about faking sick and staying home, but the nail polish would still be there the next day, so why put it off? And he's pretty sure Greta would kill him if he missed practice. What his friends thought of him meant everything to Richie. And even if they tease him jokingly about his nails, Richie doesn't know if he could handle it. All weekend he envisioned his friends teasing him about his nails, the entire school calling him names and finally Bowers and his goons cornering him in the bathroom and beating him until there was nothing left. 

There had been a few times he regretted not allowing Greta to take the polish off, but then he would look at how _pretty_ his nails looked and the regret would subside. But now, as he walked into the school, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, he wishes more than anything Greta had taken the polish off or he had asked his mother to.

His mother had gushed over his nails, calling them _lovely_. And his father had told him they looked nice over lunch. His parents' encouraging smile was enough to make tears well up in his eyes. 

He stopped at the end of the hall, looking towards his locker. The Losers all crowded around, Beverly leaning on his locker, the rest of them, surrounding her as they laughed about something. He wishes he could be so carefree, that he could just walk up and start making his friends laugh without worry, without fear. 

A lump forms in his throat, painful and suffocating. His hands twitch in his pockets, as tears sting his eyes.

_Come on, Tozier. Just go to your locker, get your books. Stop being a wimp._

He marched forward. Beverly turned her head, and her smile grew. 

"Hey, Richie!" The others turn to look at him and greet him. 

Beverly pushed off the lockers and moved out of the way. Richie stepped forward and took his hand out of his pocket to do his combination. Beverly reached forward and takes his hand in hers. 

"Yellow is a good color on you," she said releasing his hand.

"They look really nice, Richie," Ben said sincerely and smiled so sweetly Richie couldn't help but smile back. 

And that was that. There were no further comments about his nails in which Richie couldn't have been more relieved. He had to admit that every time someone had complimented his nails, it made his chest tighten with joy. 

They did ask eagerly how the slumber party went, which he had replied, "I was disappointed we didn't have a pillow fight naked, but watching movies and eating junk food was nice too." 

"Ugh," Beverly exclaimed and shoved a laughing Richie into the lockers. 

Eddie joined track his sophomore year, somehow without his mother finding out. The coach didn't make him get a parent's signature on any of the forms. Maybe because everyone in the athletic department, everyone in the entire school, in the town, knows how insane Sonia Kasprack is. 

His friends supported him, of course. Mike offered to help him train since he ran to stay in shape for football. Bill said that Eddie could tell his mother he was studying with him after school when he had practice. Eddie thought that had been a good idea since Bill is only one of his friends his mom tolerates, though she still complains about his stutter. She hates Richie because of his mouth, hates Stan because he is Jewish, hates Beverly because of rumors spread around town about her, hates Mike for the color of his skin, and she hates Ben because...Eddie didn't know why she hated Ben. How could anyone ever hate Ben? 

Things were good for a while. He competed in track meets, gained some muscle, felt normal. 

And then his mother found out. 

_"TRACK! TRACK OF ALL THINGS, EDDIE? WITH YOUR ASTHMA? AND IT'S HOT OUT! YOU'LL SUNBURN! AND IF YOU GET TOO MUCH SUN IT CAUSES CANCER! YOU KNOW HOW SENSITIVE YOU ARE! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME, EDDIE!"_

In the end, he told her when he left home for college, he would never visit her if she made him quit the team. Eddie is pretty sure the entire town heard them yelling. He knew it had been a low move, but he was desperate. He loves track more than anything in the world besides his friends. 

His mother still gives him grief, every time he leaves the house for a jog, and when she knows he has a meet. He always brushes her off, something he's got used to since joining track. 

Running makes him feel alive. The adrenaline that courses through his veins during a track meet, the roar of the crowd when he wins, the looks of joy and pride he receives from his friends, the way Richie hugs him tightly and spins him around. But no matter how many meets he's competed in, he always gets nervous before them. Especially the first one of the season. He usually takes deep breaths and lets them out slowly, while trying to talk himself down. But those things pale in comparison to what he has this time; Richie. 

As the track team got ready for the meet, Richie got ready to cheer. Richie plops down on the bench next to him as Eddie was tying up the laces of his sneakers. 

"Ready to burn some track?"

Eddie huffs out a laugh. "Yeah." 

He feels a hand on his shoulder. "You'll do great, Eds. You always do." 

Eddie looks at him. Richie is dressed in his cheer uniform, his hair as curly as ever, his glasses nowhere to be seen. He's smiling at Eddie so sweetly, so encouragingly that Eddie knows he's sincere. He takes Richie's hand off his shoulder and holds it. 

"Thanks, Rich. You'll do great too." He knocks his shoulder into Richie's, "You're a good cheerleader. Way better than the girls." 

Eddie doesn't miss the way Richie's cheeks flush. "Aw, shucks, Eds." He seems as if he were going to continue, to be silly and joke around like always, but Eddie's words had rendered him speechless it seems. 

The track coach comes in, hollering about winning and stuff Eddie usually tunes out. Richie retracts his hand and Eddie wishes he hadn't. He tells himself it's just because he's nervous and his friend is bringing him comfort. 

Who knew Richie could calm him down so much? He doesn't have the usual pre-meet jitters; shortness of breath, shaky hands, nausea. 

It's a hot night, not unusual for mid-September. And Eddie is already starting to sweat by the time he walks to the side of the track. He watches the cheerleaders run onto the field, they begin cheering and Eddie's eyes never stray from Richie. 

"Hey, Kasbrack!" The coach yells. "How about doin' some stretches? Don't want you crampin' up in the middle of the track!" Eddie finally makes himself pry his eyes away so he can start stretching.

After the cheerleaders finish their cheers, they run off the field. And the runners take their positions in their lanes, each getting some last-minute stretching in. Looking out to the stands, Eddie finds his friends quickly. They smile and Beverly waves her arms high in the air enthusiastically. And then his eyes lower to the side of the track, where the cheerleaders are. Richie is looking at him with a smile and he lifts his hand to wave. A sudden flood of emotions course through him. Eddie suddenly feels like he could run 100 miles. 

And just a moment later, he takes his position, kneeling, one foot further back than the other, hands planted on the rough track. The other boys from rival schools take the same position. He inhales deeply through his nose, he lets it out through his mouth and waits for the sound off. 

The blow horn blares loudly and they're off. Eddie passes one, two other runners and then a few others until he's in fourth place. 

Third.

Second.

Bangor high school's runner has long, muscular legs. They're neck and neck. Eddie blocks all sound out -like he always does- until all he hears is his own breathing. 

Eddie isn't a quitter, but for a split second he thinks he won't make it, he won't beat this guy. He's too good, but then he hears a voice break through the silence he's created. 

"Go, Eds! Come on! Go, Eddie!" 

It's Richie. He grins between pants. 

He pictures Richie jumping up and down, pompoms waving around wildly and it does something to his already racing heart. He pushes harder. He needs to win. He needs to win so he can see that excited, proud smile Richie will give him. 

He passes by his competitor and crosses the finish line by a hair. The home stands roar, clapping. Eddie grins, from where he's bent over, hands resting on his knees, panting. But something collides into his side and he knows it's Richie, knows his scent, knows his embrace. He's soon being lifted off the ground a few inches. 

"You did it!" Richie screams in his ear. Eddie laughs, arms coming up to wrap around Richie's neck. 

When Richie sets him down, Eddie turns to see what he won for. 

Richie is looking at him with a huge smile, teeth showing. Eddie tells himself he loves it so much because it makes him feel good; to win and to make his best friend so happy. 

After the meet ended, Richie and Eddie met up with their friends at the entry gate of the stadium. Beverly kisses their cheeks, Mike jostles them, Ben gives them his sweetest and most proud smile, while Bill and Stan; calm and collected, congratulate them. 

As they walk through the parking lot, Richie drapes his arm over Eddie's shoulders. 

"Wanna stay the night, Eds?"

Eddie looks to him with a grin and nods. "Yeah, sure." 

Richie hadn't seen Eddie last weekend and even though he's seen him throughout the week, Richie missed him. Seeing him in between classes at lunch, and in the English class they share together, just isn't the same as having Eddie alone in his room, where they can talk and tease each other all they want. 

The Losers all go their separate ways, with plans of meeting up at the arcade the next day. 

Maggie and Wentworth are waiting by Richie's car, their car parked next to his. They praise both boys and Maggie kisses them both, while Wentworth hugged his son and patted Eddie on the back. 

After both boys say their thanks, Richie says, "Eddie is going to stay the night, if that's okay?"

"Of course it is," Maggie says with a kind smile. 

Richie drives them back home. Eddie is still in his post-meet wining haze and spends the ride quietly staring out the window. Richie turns up the radio, letting Toto fill the silence. 

By the time both boys had showered, Wentworth was calling them from downstairs to, "Come and get it!" 

Dinner, pizza Richie's parents picked up on the way home, is filled with Maggie and Wentworth asking Eddie questions about track and Richie about cheerleading. Wentworth says his jokes and Richie does his voices. They all crack up ad have a good time. 

"That's fucking stupid!" Eddie exclaims from Richie's bed. 

"How is it fucking stupid?" Richie asks from where he is leaned back in his desk chair, feet propped up on the corner of his desk. 

"Because Spiderman couldn't take out the Incredible Hulk! The Hulk is indestructible! He'd totally beat Spiderman until there was nothing left! That's like saying Mighty Mouse could beat up Superman!"

This particular conversation has been going on for quite a while. Eddie had asked up who could take the Hulk down in a fight after they threw insults one another for over an hour. Richie always threw jokes around about Eddie's mother and while Eddie, not having it in him to talk about Maggie, insulted Richie non-stop.

Richie throws his head back and laughs. "Now, _that_ is something I would pay to see. But come on Spiderman is powerful! He can lift, like, tons of weight!"

"Doesn't mean he can take out the Hulk! The angrier the Hulk gets, the stronger he gets! And don't fight me anymore on this! I'm right!" 

Richie groans, throwing his head back again. "Fine!" It's quiet for a while before he says, "Well, Spidey could take out Wolverine." 

Eddie flops down on his back, groaning. As Richie's laughter dies down, he takes in the sight of the other boy. Eddie is stretched out on Richie's bed, one arm bent behind his head, the other resting on his sternum. He's beautiful, he's hot, he's handsome, whatever you want to call it. Eddie is everything. And Richie wishes he could capture this moment in a photo so he can look at it whenever he wanted. 

Eddie turns his head to look at him, an amused grin on his lips. 

"What?"

"Uh...Nothing, nothing." Richie scolds himself for getting caught. "Just tired." 

Eddie moves over. "Well, let's go to bed then. I'm tired too. It's almost midnight." 

And this is the part that Richie dreads every night Eddie stays over. When he had been just a boy of 13, he had looked forward to crawling into bed beside Eddie, even though he hadn't realized why at the time. But now, at 18, he definitely knows why. And it scares him. 

How many nights has Richie laid beside a sleeping Eddie, listening to him breathe? How many nights has Richie wished he were in Eddie's arms and that Eddie was in his? How many nights has Richie longed to lean over and brush his lips against the other boy's?

He heads over and climbs into the bed, under the covers. He reaches over and turns the bedside lamp off, encasing the two in complete darkness. He hears Eddie shuffle around until he finds a comfortable position. 

"Hey, Rich?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks...for cheering me on tonight."

"It's kinda what a cheerleader, does Eddie," he says, meaning for it to come out as a joke, but it held no amusement. 

"I didn't hear anyone else cheering for me. Only you. It kept me going." 

Richie stays silent for a long while, not knowing what to say. Lots of people had been cheering for Eddie, but Eddie only hearing his cheers, made Richie's chest clench painfully.

Swallowing, he says, "I'll always be there to cheer for you."

The following Monday, Eddie finds himself out at the track after school. The last meet proved to him he needs more practice. The football team is out on the field, some doing ladder drills, while others were running MOD sleds. 

After he finishes stretching, he takes off down the track. Rounding the track, he sees the cheerleaders out on the field. A radio sits on the grass, playing some pop song. Greta stands before the rest of them, shouting instructions. 

Running further along the track, he sees they're all in shorts and tank-tops, except for Richie. Richie is in a pair of black shorts, very short shorts and a white t-shirt crop top. He watches as Richie stretches his arms high above his head, exposing more of his torso, which has become more toned since joining the squad. 

He loses his footing and then he's falling. He throws his hands out to catch his fall, but they end up sliding on the track. He barely has time to groan when he hears, "Eddie! Oh my God! Eddie, are you okay?!" Looking up, he sees Richie kneeled beside him; one hand on his back, another on his arm, face full of concern. 

And that's when he feels the pain in the palms of his hands and in his knees. He begins to push himself up and Richie is quick to help him stand. Still hunched over he sees his skinned knees, blood beading to the surface, his hands are skinned and stinging. 

"Oh shit," Eddie groans, "My mom's going to kill me." 

He looks at Richie; taking in his appearance again because how can he not? The white t-shirt crop top has half of the Beatles' Abbey Road album cover on it. His hair is damp with sweat, cheeks flushed, and beads of sweat ran down his collarbone. His long legs looked smooth and why doesn't he wear crop tops more often? 

"Oh shit," he groans again because what is Richie doing to him?

As they walk off the track and towards the benches, Richie speaks in a soothing voice, "Just lean on me, it'll be okay. I got you." He then teases, "And you call me a klutz." 

He helps Eddie sit down on the bench, next to his duffel bag. Richie begins rifling through it until he finds what he's looking for; Eddie's first aid kit. He kneels on the ground in front of Eddie. And Eddie suddenly nervous. He wants Richie to leave and to stay all at the same time. 

Why is Richie so distracting? 

_It's the outfit,_ Eddie tells himself, _it looks fucking ridiculous._

But it doesn't. Richie looks really, really good. And Eddie can't stop staring. 

"Ugh!" Eddie yelps when Richie begins cleaning his skinned knees. "Sorry, sorry!" Richie says as he continues dabbing his knees with an antiseptic wipe. 

"D-don't you have to get back to practice?" Eddie asks as it gets hard to breathe all of a sudden. 

"I gotta take care of my Eds first!" He glances up at Eddie and his brows knit together in worry. "Are you okay?"

Eddie takes a deep breath through his nose and lets it out through his mouth. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Get to work, Tozier!" 

Before Richie can reply they hear, "Hey guys!" Mike comes jogging over in his football attire, helmet in his hand. "Oh," he takes in Eddie's wounds and winces. "That was some fall, Eddie. You alright?"

"I will be," Eddie tells with a grimace as Richie begins applying Neosporin to his knees. 

"He's got me! Dr. Tozier! I'll fix you right up, Eds! Or if you prefer, call me Nurse Tozier. I can wear one of those sexy nurse outfits for you." 

Eddie reaches over and shoves Richie's head back a little, but winces when he feels Richie's wet hair. Richie laughs as he begins peeling open the large bandaids. 

Mike leaves to go back to practice after his coach started yelling at him. 

Once Richie has his knees bandaged, he looks up at Eddie with a grin. "Not as good a job as you would have done, but after watching you doctor us up over the years, I figured I did okay." 

After looking at his knees he looks back up at Richie. "You did great, Rich. Thanks. Or should I say, Nurse Tozier." 

Richie grins widely at the runner, but his eyes drop down, grin slipping off his face. Worry and confusion fill the space and he rubs the back of his head. "Is there anything I can do for your hands? Do they hurt?"

Eddie peers down at his palms. They hadn't bled, but the top layer of skin had been scraped off. They stung horribly. 

"A little bit, but they'll be fine." He sends Richie a smile. "Don't worry." 

"Guess you're done for the day, huh?"

Eddie sighs. "I guess so." 

"Um, change the bandages later. I need to get back. Are you sure you're okay?"

Eddie nods. "Yeah, I'm fine." 

Richie gives him a smile. "Be more careful, Eds. See ya tomorrow!" He runs off, across the field back to his squad. 

Instead of getting up and leaving as he should, Eddie stays and watches Richie cheer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~I hope this chapter is okay. It goes back and forth quite a bit. Also, I probably won't update until late next week. I'm leaving out of town to visit family and that won't leave me much time to write while I'm gone. I hope this holds y'all over until then. Come tak to me Tumblr: FlowersOnMyMind1016~

It's been a tough week. After Sonia saw his skinned knees, she had insisted on taking him to the emergency room. Eddie had refused, which caused a huge argument between mother and son. And Eddie knew it would have been easier to just let his mother drive him to the hospital, let his doctor clean and redress his knees, but Eddie has spent countless hours inside of hospitals and doctor's offices throughout his childhood for no reason other than his mother was paranoid. And now, at 18-years-old, he's had enough. He refused to go to the hospital for something as small as skinned knees. 

When Friday rolled around, he was ready for a nice, relaxing, fun-filled weekend, preferably with Richie, at Richie's house. That's why he walked up to Richie's locker first thing when he arrived at school. Richie was taking books out of his locker and Eddie smiled, giddy with the thought of spending time with Richie. 

"Hey, Rich." 

Richie turned his head and smiled at Eddie. "Hey, Eds. What's up?"

"I was wondering if I could stay the night tonight."

Richie winces. "Aw, I'm sorry, Eddie. Greta is staying over tonight." 

"Greta?!" 

Richie's face brightens. "Oh, you can come over too! And the three of us can hang out!"

It irritates Eddie more because he knows Richie is genuine. He really thinks that the three of them could have a good time. Well, Eddie doesn't want to. He doesn't like having to share Richie with other people outside of their club. He hates himself because doesn't know why he feels this way. It's like a child not wanting to share his favorite toy. And Richie isn't his toy, he doesn't own Richie. But still, Eddie huffs. "No, thanks." 

"Well, maybe you can stay with Bill or Ben?"

"Yeah," Eddie says flatly, "maybe." 

"I'll make it up to ya, Eds! I promise!" Richie grins at him and usually no matter the situation, it will make Eddie smile too. But not this time. 

Eddie is being sidelined by a girl who used to bully them! And yes, Eddie knows he could stay with any of their friends, minus Beverly, but he doesn't _want_ any of them. He wants Richie.

Eddie doesn't say much to Richie the rest of the day, in fact, he barely speaks to anyone. Though, he couldn't wait to tell their friends, bitterly, at lunch, that Greta is staying with Richie. The others were just as shocked as he had been. 

As they walk down the hall after school, Mike suggests, "Anyone up for meeting at the quarry on Saturday?"

"Yeah!" Richie exclaims. "11, all right?"

They all agree, with plans of having lunch there as well. And Eddie forgets about Greta for a moment. It's just The Losers making weekend plans. Until Greta comes up behind them and locks arms with Richie. "Hey!" She smiles widely at Richie. And then Eddie's mood is darkened once again. _Can't she see we're fucking talking?_ Eddie fumes silently. 

Richie looks at her with a grin. "Hey, G." 

Beverly looks to the boys and mouths, _G?_ in disbelief as Richie and Greta start talking. 

A moment later Richie looks to his friends. "Later, guys! See you tomorrow!"

Stan, Bill, Mike, and Beverly were still too stunned to reply. Ben, the sweetheart he is, smiled wishing them a good weekend. And Eddie, with his arms crossed over his chest, glares. 

Richie is lying propped up against his headboard, while Greta laid on the opposite end of the bed, on her side, propped up on pillows. She has a magazine, while Richie has a comic. 

It's quiet while they read until Greta asks, "Want me to do your nails again?" 

Richie looks at his nails, the yellow paint chipped, cracked, and ugly. He's been wanting to ask Greta to redo them ever since they began to chip just days after she painted them. But as always, his fear bested him. 

"Yes, please." 

"Great!" She sips up quickly, startling Richie. He wrinkled the sides of his book where he held and smooths out the pages as Greta leans over the side of the bed and digs into her duffel bag and takes out a much smaller caboodle than she had with her at Mary Beth's. 

Richie goes back to his comic until he smells a pungent stench. Glancing over the top of his comic, he sees Greta with a bottle of nail polish remover in one hand and a tiny bag of cotton balls. The smell makes Richie want to choke. _How do girls stand that?_ Though, if he could have pretty nails all the time, he would gladly deal with the smell. Greta begins taking the polish off his toes first. It's cold. Like, really cold.It makes Richie want to bury his feet under his blanket.

"Hey, Rich?"

Richie hums in reply, eyes glued his Spider-man comic. Greta is quiet a long time, and Richie gets swept into the story again. 

"I like girls."

Richie turns the page and begins to read the top panel before it registers what Greta just told him. He puts his book down to look at his friend with wide eyes. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, not knowing what to say. 

"Uh. What?"

She's looking down at his toes, focusing on rubbing away the old polish, a little too harshly. 

"I'm gay, Richie." Her voice is shaky. And when she finally looks up at Richie, he sees her eyes are glassed over with tears, cheeks and nose pink.

"Greta," Richie begins, but he has no idea what to say. He wants to say it's okay. But only, it's not okay. Not in Derry. Maybe in another place, in another time. But right here, right now, it's dangerous. All Richie knows, is that her secret is safe with him. He's good at keeping secrets. 

She sniffs suddenly and smiles. "Now, what color do you want this time?" She wipes the corner of her eye quickly.

Richie finally says the one thing he can think of. "I love you, G." 

Greta looks up from her caboodle, smile widening. "I'm thinking pink." 

Eddie mopes around the house when he gets home from school. He tried reading, but couldn't concentrate and ended up reading the same paragraph three times. He was so desperate to fill his time he caved and joined his mother in the living room to watch television. 

He lasted through a couple of hows before he couldn't stand his mother's voice any longer since she adds her own commentary to shows and movies, and pretty much everything. 

Maybe he should call up Bill or Ben and see if he can stay with one of them. But it just doesn't interest him tonight. He loves all of the Losers, loves spending time with them, but it's different with Richie. With Richie, Eddie can unwind and fully relax without the worry of his mother hanging over him. Richie makes him forget about his mother and all of his worries and insecurities for a while. 

So, what could Richie and Greta possibly have in common? What could they possibly be doing? What do a teenage boy and a teenage girl do together? 

His heart stops. _Are they...? No, they couldn't be together. Not like Ben and Bev. Could they? No. No! No way! Richie wouldn't date Greta of all people. Richie doesn't date! Right?_ Is he the only one who suspects this? He wishes he could call one of his friends, maybe Stan since he and Richie are pretty close, and ask him. But with the telephone being so close to the living room, he wouldn't have any privacy with his nosey, over-bearing mother. And if Stan knows, would Stan even tell him?

And Eddie worries the majority of the night at the possibility of Richie bringing Greta to the Quarry. Richie wouldn't do that. Right? The Losers have never invited anyone outside of their group to the Quarry. The Quarry is _their_ place. If Richie brought Greta with him, Eddie doesn't think he could ever forgive Richie for tainting their spot. 

They order a pizza and eat it while they watch _Dirty Dancing_. Greta had brought it with her, knowing it would make her friend happy to watch it again. 

Richie puts music on after the movie and when the opening lines of _I've Had the Time of My Life_ begin to play, Greta smiles and jumps off the bed excitedly. "You bought it?" She asks, picking up to the _Dirty Dancing_ cassette tape case. 

"Hell yeah! I bought the tape after the sleepover." He bows dramatically, one arm bent behind his back and the other held out in front of him. "If you'll do me the honors of dancing with me, milady?" 

Greta rolls her eyes lightly but takes his hand and he whirls them around the room. 

Richie hadn't known what to say to what Greta told him earlier, but when they're holding each other close as they sway back and forth to _Cry to Me_ , he kisses the top of her head and whispers, "It's okay."

Later, when they're laying in the darkness of Richie's room, Greta breaks the silence. "Love you too, Rich." And she leans over to kiss his cheek and ends up kissing his nose instead, making the two friends burst into a fit of giggles. 

Even though they're all 18, or almost 18, the Losers still ride bikes to the quarry. Eddie arrives first, then Ben, Stan, Bill, Mike, and Beverly. Eddie takes the opportunity to voice his concerns about Richie and Greta. 

Beverly laughs, actually laughs. She laughs so hard, tears stream down her face as she clutches her ribs. Ben worries when her face turns red and rubs her back. 

"I-I don't thu-ink Richie wuh-would date Greh-Greta," Bill says. 

"Yeah, I just don't see that, Eddie," Mike says. 

Beverly finally calms down and while she wipes her tears away she states, "Richie would never date Greta Bowie."

"We never thought he would be friends with her either!" Eddie shoots back. "And now the two of them are having sleepovers!" 

That makes the Losers go quiet.

"Well, we could just ask him?" Ben suggests. 

" _Or_ ," Beverly says, dragging the word out with a mischievous smirk, "we could watch them."

"You want to spy on Richie and Greta?" Ben asks, with an almost hurt expression. 

"Let's just watch for anything that could mean they're more than friends. Like at school, in the hallways or we could watch them at cheer practice."

"I'm in," Eddie says quickly. 

"Me too," Bill says with a nod. 

"I am pretty curious," Mike says. 

"I don't want to spy on Richie," Ben admits, looking down at the sand guiltily, scooting a small rock over with the toe of his sneaker. 

"We're just observing, Ben," Beverly grins. "You know, being more...aware."

The crunching of leaves and pebbles under tires makes the rest of them quiet. Richie comes riding up on his bike. Eddie sighs in relief when he doesn't see Greta riding along behind Richie. 

"Hey, guys!" 

Eddie almost chokes when Richie gets off his bike. And not because of his old, beat up, black chucks either. But because of his cut off blue jeans shorts, frayed at the legs. They went to the middle of his thighs. And that's not all; Richie is wearing that damn Beatles crop top again. 

"Hey, Rich! Nice shorts!" Beverly says. 

Richie blushes. "Thanks, Bev." 

"How was your sleepover with Greta?" Ben asks. 

Richie smiles. "It was great! We had a good time. Now, are we gonna swim in dirty water or just stand here talking all day?" 

He grips the hem of his shirt and pulls it off and Eddie doesn't know why he watches Richie's every move, even as he takes his shorts off, leaving him in only his boxer shorts. 

Eddie couldn't keep his eyes off Richie the entire day. He watches Richie swim around and play with the others. The only time his eyes aren't on his best friend is when Richie dunks him under the water (numerous times). 

And now, as they take a break from swimming, Eddie is still watching Richie. Richie is laid out on a towel in just his boxers, one arm bent behind his head, glasses nowhere to be seen, eyes closed as he basked in the sun's warmth.

Richie has built up muscle since joining the squad; more defined abs, larger arms, even his legs are more toned. And his skin colored by hours of cheer practice in the sun. 

_He's beautiful._ And that thought startles Eddie. Eddie is quick to dismiss such thoughts. Guys are not beautiful. But Richie is. Richie is gorgeous. He decides to focus on something else, like Richie's newly painted nails. They're pink now. And while they are pretty, he prefers them yellow. He scolds himself again. He can't seem to stop associating Richie with beauty. These new thoughts frighten him and he does his best to ignore them and focuses on the story Bill was telling them. 

The sounds of coaches blowing whistles and shouting with an undertone of music and cheers pollute the air. Eddie and his friends, minus Mike who is across the field at football practice, sat as close as they could to the cheerleaders. Even 15 yards away, Eddie can still see Richie perfectly. Richie is in stretchy black shorts and a white tank top today, which Eddie is both relieved and disappointed. There is a radio set aside from the cheerleaders, blasting some pop song Eddie doesn't really like. But since sitting down to watch Richie, he's blocked out any other noise, wanting his sole focus on Richie. 

He watches as Richie and Greta throw a small girl, Mary Beth, up in the air and Richie catches her with ease. Eddie has to admit, he figured Richie would be a complete disaster as a cheerleader, but he's the opposite. He moves with ease and grace and he's by far the best cheerleader Derry High School has.

Richie does a few front flips and Ben comments how great Richie is getting. It makes Eddie smile because Richie is great. He's wonderful. 

Everything Richie does out on that field has Eddie mesmerized. His eyes never leave Richie, something that's been happening a lot lately. 

But it's only because Eddie is impressed by how good of a cheerleader he is. That's it.

After an hour, they take a break, the girls getting drinks and wiping sweat off with towels. They sit in the grass doing their best to cool off under the hot sun. 

Greta rolls the sleeves of her white t-shirt up over her shoulders as Richie sits down beside her. He takes a long swig of his water bottle before handing it over to her. She takes it and looks at all the stickers Richie stuck to it before taking a drink. 

"Your friends have been watching you." 

Richie glances up to the stands, trying to be discrete. 

"They look impressed the whole time."

Richie blushes at the thought of impressing his friends, especially one in particular. 

Greta knocks her shoulder into his. "Hey, you should be proud of yourself. You've worked really hard."

"I-I know. It's just..." He chances another glance to the stands before looking down at his lap. 

"It's just what?"

"Nothing." He looks to her with a smile and she doesn't push it any further.

" _It's so hot_!" Mary Beth exclaims from where she's laying in the grass from just a few feet away. Rose giggles and kicks her leg lightly. 

"I would kill for some ice cream!" Rose says. 

"I got the next best thing!" Richie shouts and squeezes his water bottle at her. 

"Richie!" She shrieks as she gets to her feet. Richie jumps to his and runs, Rose close at his heels. 

It's only after she jumps on his back, does Greta say, "Okay! Break time's over!" Richie comes running back over with Rose on his back, his hands placed on the backs of her thighs to keep her in place. 

"Yeah, get off me! You're all sweaty!"

"You are too!"

"And you're wet. I guess now you're Rose Water!" Richie teases. 

She shoves him, laughing. 

Greta orders everyone to get into their positions. 

Another hour passes before practice ends. The girls say goodbye to Richie and Greta as they walk off the field. Richie and Greta stay behind as they pack up their things. An ad for car insurance plays on the radio before switching to Hungry Eyes. And Richie almost squeals. He bows dramatically, one arm behind his back, and another extended towards his friend like he had Friday night. Greta looks at him with an amused expression as she takes his offered hand. 

Richie swings her around and she laughs. 

"Hey, I bet I can lift you up like Johnny does to Baby!" Richie says after a moment of swaying back and forth. 

"Uh, how about no! And besides this is the wrong song!"

"Please! Please, please, please! G, Come _o_ n!"

"Okay, you big baby!" She laughs. 

He stops and steps away from her. Holding his arms out in front of him he asks, "Ready?"

She sighs. "If you drop me, I'll cut your balls off, Tozier!"

"Just come on!" 

She runs and he grabs her hips and lifts her up, but his arms waver, tired from two hours of tossing, throwing, catching, and lifting the girls. His arms give out and Greta grabs onto his neck on her way down. Her sudden weight on him, makes him stumble back and they fall to the ground. 

"You dropped me!" She yells from her place on top of him. 

"Give me a break, I'm tired! And besides, you fell on top of me!"

She picks her head up, grinning down at him. "I guess we're even then." 

He huffs out a laugh. "I guess we are." 

Eddie watches as Richie and Greta grab up their bags and walk off the field. He keeps seeing them dancing, Richie holding Greta close and then Greta lying on top of Richie. He wishes he understood why it made a sickly, uneasy feeling form in the pit of his stomach. 

Richie and Greta step onto the track, the Losers on the other side, up in the stands still, when Henry Bowers saunters over, his goons just behind him. 

"Look what we have here," he begins, an idiotic grin on face, "a slut and her fag!" 

Eddie sees the way Richie freezes, hand clutching the strap of his duffel bag that rested on his shoulder. Eddie wants nothing more than to comfort his friend but finds it impossible from where he stands. He sees Beverly open her mouth to say something, to spit out some comment to Bowers most likely, but someone beats her to it. 

"And look what we have here!" Greta says, "A boy who sucked on his mama's tit until he was 12 years old, and three idiots who put the Three Stooges to shame!"

"Bitch!" Henry spits, taking a step towards Greta, but Richie puts himself between the two and pushes Henry's shoulder. 

"Back off, Bowers!" It startles him, he's never stood up to Bowers, not by himself. Sure, he's said things to Bowers, but only after Bill or Beverly says things first. Like that rock fight they had when they were 13, Beverly had started that. But now, Richie feels so exposed, as if he were naked.

Henry steps up to him. "What are you gonna do about it, fag?"

"You already called me that. Why don't you come back when you come up with some new insults, you mullet-wearing motherfucker!"

Henry's face goes from amused to downright pissed off. His fist comes up, but a, "Bowers!" Stop him. A short woman dressed in a green tracksuit comes onto the field. "What the hell are you doing on my field?" 

"Just talking, Coach Jones." Henry grins at her, putting on the most innocent face he could muster. 

"This field is for playing football, cheering, and track. Get the hell out of here before I suspend you...again!" 

"Y-yes ma'am!" Henry trips over his own feet as he runs away.

"Thanks, Coach." Greta smiles. 

She grins. "No problem. Hate that little shit. Good work today, Bowie, Tozier." She turns and leaves. 

"G!" Richie turns to her, grabbing her wrist, "You were awesome!"

Greta moves her wrist out of Richie's hold and takes his hand, squeezing it. "Thanks, Rich. So were you."

Eddie focuses on their clasped hands and wills them to part. He keeps telling himself this doesn't mean anything. Richie and Greta dancing doesn't mean anything. Greta sleeping over at Richie's house doesn't mean anything. The two are friends and nothing more. But in his head, he hears an evil, menacing hiss. 

_They're together, Eddie. Richie kept it from you._

_'No! Richie would never do that! He would never keep something from me._

"Eds!" Eddie is brought from his internal argument. Richie has stepped up to the wall of the stands. "You okay?"

Eddie's heart is beating so hard in his chest it feels like he just finished a race. He's still worked up at the thought that Richie and Greta could be dating. 

"Yeah, I'm fine." 

Richie smiles at him. "Wanna come over for dinner? Mom's making tacos." 

Thoughts of Richie and Greta dating leaves him for the moment, at least for a while. 

"Sure." 

"Excelente, Senor!" Richie says in an awful Mexican accent. 

"Ugh!" Greta exclaims and pushes Richie. "Needs work!" 

Richie laughs and shoves her back. 

And then that evil, menacing hiss haunts Eddie's thoughts once again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Okay, I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long! I was out of town for almost three weeks! And when I got back I was in a bit of a funk and just couldn't find the will to write. And also, this chapter, well, it's just taking a turn. That's all I will say.~

The logical thing to do would be to just ask Richie if he and Greta are dating. But when has any of the Losers ever done the logical thing? So Eddie simply watches the two instead...like a weirdo. 

He watches them talk in the halls between classes. He watches them goof around at cheer practice when he should be focusing on his running. He even watches as Greta joins them on their way out of school and talks to Richie. And now Greta comes up to their table at lunch. She never eats with them and only comes up to talk to Richie for a few minutes before she returns to the other cheerleaders inside the cafeteria. But Eddie hates those few minutes. This is supposed to their time. No one but the Losers. 

_She can't stand to be away from Richie for the 30 minutes? Talking to Richie in the hallways and they even have Physics together, and spending the two hours of cheer practice after school isn't enough for Greta? No to mention they hang out on the weekends. Why does she have to show her face at lunch too?_ Eddie thinks. 

It's been four days since the Losers watched cheer practice and they're currently at their picnic table outside of the cafeteria. Bill is in the middle of one of his new stories he's writing. This one is really good and Eddie hopes the ending will be good this time. Bill is waving his hands around and he's so excited that he stutters through the story. Mike is watching him with an amused, but proud smile. Stan is listening to Bill, but his eyes wander to Mike every so often. Ben is munching on a bag of chips while Beverly has her hands clasped over Ben's shoulder, leaning into him as she listens to Bill's story. And Eddie is seated in his usual spot; beside Richie. 

Everything is great. Eddie is happy. He's with his friends, he's beside Richie, Richie isn't with Greta. No, Greta is inside with the other cheerleaders. She's nowhere near Richie, taking up his time and attention. Greta is...Greta is coming outside. She's walking towards them. And she's talking to Richie now. Richie is smiling at her. 

Eddie huffs as he angrily takes a bite of his sandwich. She's talking about cheering and _isn't that something that should be discussed at cheer practice?_ Eddie wishes Bill hadn't stopped his story when Greta walked up or else Eddie would have tried to concentrate on that instead. 

Eddie watches as Greta reaches in front of Richie and plucks his apple from its place on his flattened lunch sack. She takes a huge bite as Richie speaks to her. She listens intently, nodding her head as she munches on his apple. 

"Well," Greta says after she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, "we can do that. We'll run it by the girls today." She tosses the apple up and Richie catches it. And to Eddie's horror, she leans down and kisses his cheek. 

Richie acts like it's nothing. Like they do this all the time. Like it's normal. 

Eddie watches Richie takes a bite of his apple as Greta walks away. 

Richie is dating Greta. 

And Richie kept it from him. 

Richie tells Eddie everything. They know everything about each other. Except this. Eddie can't stop the words that spew out of his mouth like an erupting volcano. 

Richie took a bite of his apple as he watched his friend walk back into the cafeteria. Greta brought up some good strategies to improve on their cheers and Richie thinks he brought up some too. 'Who would have thought we would make a good team,' he muses to himself. He's suddenly ripped from his thoughts, however, when he hears Eddie's voice next to him, screaming. 

"What the fuck Richie?!" 

Richie looks to him, startled. "What's wrong, Eddie?"

"You're fucking dating Greta Bowie that's what's wrong!"

"Eds..." Richie begins, but Eddie isn't having any of it. 

"How could keep this from me? You tell me everything! What else are you hiding? Huh?!" 

Richie freezes because, yeah, he is hiding something else. A big something else. Richie's mind shuts down, he doesn't know what to do or what to say. His apple falls from his hands and its the table with a dull thud, it rolls off and onto the grass. He feels the others' eyes on him. He feels like he's suffocating. He can't breathe and his hands begin to shake. 

Eddie is mad. Eddie is yelling. At him. And Richie doesn't know what to do. Eddie hasn't ever been mad at Richie. Irritated yes, but never angry. 

"Eddie!" Stan scolds, his voice low in warning. 

"S-s-stuh-op, Eddie!" Bill stutters. 

"I thought you were my friend! Friends tell each other things! I guess we're not friends after all!" 

Richie is quick to stand and he hurries away, throat aching and eyes stinging with tears. All he thinks is, _Eddie hates me._

"Richie! Come back, man!" Mike says. 

Ben gets up and goes after him, but by the time they make it to the door, Ben grabs Richie's arm gently. "Richie don't go." 

Richie jerks his arms out of Ben's grasp and he can't stop the sob that rips through his throat. He goes inside and keeps his head down. He hears, "Richie! Hey Rich!" 

It's Greta and he ignores it. He has to get away. 

He finds himself in the auditorium and sits down in one of the seats. His hands are shaking and tears are freely spilling down his cheeks down. He jerks his glasses off and brings his knees up to his chest. He buries his face in them. 

_Eddie is right. Friends tell each other things. So, why can't I tell them? I guess I haven't been a true friend all this time._

Eddie is seeing red, he's seething until he feels a sharp stinging across his face. He looks to Beverly, who has angry tears in her eyes, her hand still in the air. 

"What the fuck, Eddie?" Her voice is thick but dangerously low. 

"What?" He shouts, appalled. Why aren't they upset Richie kept this from them? 

"Eddie!" Ben shouts, startling everyone. "How could you do that? How could you say those things to Richie? He's your best friend!" 

"He kept that from us! He..."

"Richie didn't do anything wrong," Stan says. "We don't even know if they're dating. Did you ask him? No, you fucking lost it and hurt his feelings." 

Eddie opens his mouth but closes it. He did lose it. He did hurt Richie's feelings. 

_Shit, shit, shit! Oh, fuck!_

"I-I didn't mean..." He trails off, not knowing what to say. He needs to find Richie and beg for forgiveness. 

"Did you see where Richie went?" Mike asks Ben. 

"I think he just wants to be alone right now," Ben says solemnly. 

Eddie slumps in his seat, he buries his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes harshly. What has he done?

"Richie?" Greta pokes her through the auditorium doors, glancing around. She spots Richie in the far back corner. He's hugging his knees, face buried in them. She walks over to him slowly, careful not to the startle him. She sits in the seat next to him. 

"Hey," she says softly and lays a gentle hand on the spot between his heaving shoulder blades. 

"Talk to me, Rich." 

Richie lifts his head and Greta's heart breaks at the pink face and eyes, at the tears flowing down his cheeks.

"Eddie's mad at me." He chokes out. "He yelled at me." His breathing is coming out in short pants, and Greta worries he will pass out. 

"Why is he mad?"

"He thinks we're dating and I kept it from him. He's so mad, Greta. I don't want Eddie to be mad at me," he chokes out a sob. "He said I wasn't his friend since I kept something from him." 

"Oh, Richie," She rubs his back as he cries. "Breathe, okay, breathe." She instructs, but Richie couldn't. He couldn't stop. She leans into him, keeping a hand on his back, and resting her cheek against his shoulder. 

After several minutes she hears a broken, "Greta?"

"Yes?"

"I'm gay." 

"That's okay." 

"And I'm in love with Eddie," he says brokenly. 

"That's okay too." 

A few more minutes pass and she says, "Let's go back to my house. I'll go get your bag. Okay?"

Richie nods, his face buried in his knees again. 

"Stay here. I'll be right back." 

She gets up, planting a kiss to the crown of his head, and leaves the auditorium. She stops off at the cheerleading table and tells the girls that she's taking Richie home because he's sick. There is a string of, "Oh no," and "I hope he feels better soon," and "poor baby!" She grabs up her bag and then walks outside, towards the Losers table. 

Anger rises in her as she sees Eddie. But an evil joy spikes up within her when she sees his cheek red. She makes it to the table and begins packing Richie's things. 

"Richie and I aren't fucking dating. You wanna know why?" She looks at Eddie. "Because he has a dick! And that's just something I don't like. And you know, you don't deserve to have a friend like Richie! You're an asshole!" She looks to Beverly, "Did you do that to his face?" 

Beverly nods, eyes wide. 

"Good." She looks at Eddie again, who hasn't looked up at her once. "And I'm not fucking sorry what I did to your cast!" She roughly zips up Richie's backpack and grabs it off the bench and leaves. 

The _Dirty Dancing_. soundtrack is playing softly in the background. Greta thought it might cheer Richie up a little. 

It didn't.

She's seated at her desk. She looks up from her textbook, not being able to concentrate on it. Glancing over at her friend, she sees he is laying on her bed, on his side, clutching one of her teddy bears to his chest as he stares at nothing, sniffling quietly. Richie hasn't said a word since the auditorium and Greta was beginning to get really worried. Her dad was bringing home cheeseburgers on his way home from work, but she has a feeling that isn't going to cheer Richie up either. 

"I can do your nails again," she offers. 

She's met with more silence. 

"I'm taking your silence as a yes," she announces as she stands and searches for her case of polishes. 

After she finds it, she sits criss-cross on the foot of the bed. Richie rolls over onto his back, so it would be easier for her to see. She thinks that's a good sign. 

"Done!" She announces some time later. Richie looks over the teddy bear on his chest to see his toenails were newly painted. This time, pastel green. He likes them and the tiniest grin appears on his lips. 

Greta smiles widely, triumphantly. "Now sit up so I can do your hands."

He obeys and she crawls over to him and takes his left hand and sets it on her bare thigh. 

By the time she's halfway done with one hand, Richie says, "I don't want to face Eddie tomorrow." 

"Then don't." He looks to her in question and she continues, "Let's play hooky. I know your grades are good enough and so are mine. One day won't hurt."

"We're already missing cheer practice today though." 

"I'm the captain." She shrugs. "And I'm assigning you as co-captain. So, whatever we say goes." 

Richie feels a tightness in his chest. "Really?"

She looks up from his nails with a grin. "Really. And besides, I'm sure one of the girls can take over for a bit. Now, stop being so down in the dumps. Let's finish your nails and then we'll watch a movie. We'll go into town tomorrow and have some fun."

Richie musters up a small smile. "Okay."

It was a long school day for Eddie. He trudged to his classes until his final period, in which he rushed to see Richie. His heart sunk however when Richie wasn't there. And it sunk even lower when Richie didn't show up at all. 

He's avoiding me, Eddie thinks. He doesn't blame Richie one bit. _I'll catch him at cheer practice. There's no way he skipped that too._

He doesn't pay attention to his teacher, instead, he wrote down what he could say to Richie, but all of it just sounded empty. Nothing was good enough. After his 7th attempt, he got so frustrated he ripped the scribbled on-page out of his notebook and crumpled it up. His teacher glanced over with a vexed look, pausing his speech, and then continued. 

Eddie's leg bounced up and down as he waited for class to end. Glancing at the clock, he saw there was still half an hour. He refrained from dropping his head to his desk. He needed to get Richie, he needs Richie to know how sorry he is. He wants to take Richie in his arms and cry and beg for forgiveness. 

Once again that evil, snarling voice whispers in his mind. _What if he doesn't forgive you?_

 _He will! He's my best friend. He wouldn't end our friendship over this, would he?_ Eddie talks back. 

_He has a new best friend now. Greta._

Eddie slumps back in his seat. Maybe Richie won't forgive him. He does have Greta now. And the other cheerleaders. So, why would Richie need Eddie and the Losers? 

It's enough to bring tears to his eyes and his throat tighten. 

He's brought out of his inner turmoil by the bell ringing sometime later and he packs his things as quickly as possible and runs for the gym. He changes quickly, in record-breaking time, and heads for the track. The cheerleaders are not even on the field yet, so he tries to concentrate on his stretches. 

"I asked Rose where Richie is and she said he went home sick." A voice says. Eddie looks up from stretching to touch his toes to see Mike, decked out in his football attire. 

Eddie straightens up. "Oh, well, I guess I'll just...I'll stop by his house on the way home." He can't believe he hurt his best friend so badly that he didn't even show up for cheer practice. 

_Cheering means so much to him..._

The corner of Mike's lip curves up. It's not a smile, not even close to one, but its all he could muster. He, like the rest of the Losers, feels stuck. He doesn't want Richie to be upset and then he doesn't want Eddie to be upset either, but then again he's upset with Eddie for causing all of this. He wishes the two could just get it together. 

"I'll see you, Eddie." He runs off to his teammates and Eddie is left alone.

"I didn't get upset about Eddie thinking we were dating," Richie says. 

He's sitting criss-cross on Greta's bed, while Greta lay on her stomach, feet in the air, ankles crossed. She turns her attention away from the movie, _The Goonies_ , and asks, "Hm?"

"I wasn't upset about Eddie thinking we were dating and I was hiding it. I got upset because I am hiding something from them. And if Eddie got pissed by thinking that I was hiding being in a relationship with a girl, then what would he think if I told him I'm..."

Greta sits up on her knees, facing her friend, listening intently.

"I don't want to lose him. He's...my Eds. I-I...We've been best friends since Kindergarten."

"If he doesn't accept you for who you are, then he isn't a true friend. And you don't have to tell anyone until you're ready to. You two have always seemed so close. He'll be begging on his knees when he sees you on Monday."

"Do you think so? I mean, do you think we'll be okay again?"

"I don't know. I hope so. I don't like seeing you being so sad. And if he's mean to you again I'll punch him in his tiny dick."

"Greta," he scolds, but she sees a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

She lunges at him then and they fall back and he has an arm full of Greta Bowie. Greta looks down from her spot on top of Richie and smiles. He's laughing, cackling that obnoxious Richie Tozier laugh. It's the first time since this whole thing happened that Richie seems like he's going to okay. 

She squeezes him tightly. 

"Hey, hey, Madam! And here I thought you were a lesbian! I say, good Ma'am! Get off me before your father walks in!" Greta can't even tell what accent he was supposed to be using, but she laughs anyway. 

Eddie lays in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had gone straight to the Tozier's after track practice only for Maggie to tell him that he was staying at Greta's. He considered going over to the Bowie's, but knowing Greta, she wouldn't let Eddie see Richie. He'll try again tomorrow, he'll keep trying until he can apologize to Richie. 

He needs to make things right. He can't lose Richie. 

He _can't._

Richie is the most important thing in his life. If the world around him burned to the ground, he would okay as long as he had Richie. Richie has always been there, for 13 years Richie has been there whenever Eddie needed or wanted him. Eddie can't even fathom what life would be like without Richie Tozier. 

That's why the thought of Richie dating Greta scared him so badly. He didn't want Richie to forget about him. He didn't want Richie to kiss and touch Greta and spend all of his time with her when he could doing that with Eddie. 

Eddie sits up. That's not what he meant. He swallows thickly. He just didn't want to lose his best friend is all. But then why does the thought of Richie being with someone makes him physically sick? Eddie gets off his bed and paces the room, like a caged animal. Why would he think such a thing? But a voice inside his head goes, _That explains why I've been watching him so much and why I can't even think when Richie wears that stupid Beatles crop top or those shorts._

"I need to talk to someone about this." He says aloud. 

Bill! He needs Big Bill! Bill will know what to do! He grabs his jacket that hung from his bedpost and races downstairs. 

"Eddie! Don't run down the stairs! You could trip and fall and break a bone!" His mother shouts from the living room. Eddie pays no mind to her though as he walks over to the door and slides into his sneakers and laces them up.

"Eddie! Where are you going? You know how dangerous it is to drive at night! Eddie!" He ignores her and runs to his car. 

And soon he's zooming down streets, going 10 miles over the speed limit. His hands grip the steering wheel so tightly they ache, his heart beating so fast he feels lightheaded. 

He parks crookedly on the street in front of the Denbrough's house and runs up the sidewalk. He bangs too hard on the door and it opens to reveal Georgie. 

"Hi, Eddie!"

"Is your brother here?" 

"Uh, yeah, he's up...Hey!" 

Eddie pushes passed the 13-year-old and quickly goes upstairs. He opens Bill's door without knocking. Bill is seated at his desk, typewriter in front of him. He turns around quickly, startled at the intrusion. 

Eddie, still gripping the doorknob and leaning against the door frame, is panting harshly. 

"Eddie, what..."

"Am I in love with Richie?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Fun fact: this story was originally planned in only Eddie's point of view. That's why chapter one was only in Eddie's. But Richie is my favorite character and I just had to write him hanging out with the cheerleaders.~

On Friday morning, Richie had driven them into town with the windows down and the radio blaring. They sang along to Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of their lungs. They went into shops, ignoring the judging looks from adults who knew the two were skipping school. They shopped for clothes and tried on ridiculous outfits and laughed so loudly, they were asked to leave the shop. They shopped for cassettes (because Richie's car is old and it only plays cassettes), and they spent half of the day at the arcade (Greta beat him at Streetfighter, Richie fell to his knees screaming _NOOO,_ while Greta jumped up and down in triumph). 

Afterward, they went to grab cheeseburgers at Benny's Diner. And finally, they went to Max's Ice Cream shop. They take their ice cream cones and walk across the street to the park, where they find an empty bench.

"Who's your celebrity crush?" Greta asks once they are seated. 

Richie lowers his vanilla ice cream cone, thinking deeply and after a while answers, "Christian Slater." 

"Really?"

"Hell yeah! Have you seen Pump up the Volume? Changed my life. What about you?"

"Well, I take your Christian Slater and raise you one Winona Rider," Greta states proudly as she licks her cookies n cream ice cream cone. 

Richie squints his eyes. "Heathers?"

"Heathers. We need to watch it together at our next sleepover." 

Richie nods in agreement and asks, "So, what kind of girls do you like? What's your type?"

Greta ponders for a moment. "I don't know. Well, I mean just anyone who is nice and would treat me right." After a moment, she adds, "And blondes." 

Richie laughs until she asks him the same question. But she seems to see her mistake. "Hey, I'm sorry. Today is about having fun and not thinking about..."

"It's okay. I just," he shrugs, "it's always just been Eddie, you know? I've never been interested in anyone else."

"With the exception of Christian Slater?" She says it as a joke but still winces, hoping he finds it funny. 

Richie huffs out a laugh. "Yeah, Christian Slater is the one exception."

"So, someone who is angry and germaphobic with a tiny dick really gets you going?" She asks, hoping Richie laughs, but instead Richie gives his cone a thoughtful lick. "I bet Eddie has a big dick." 

Greta laughs so hard she snorts. When she recovers she says, "Wait, wait. You've never seen him naked?"

Richie shakes his head.

"Not even when you Losers go to the Quarry?"

Richie lowers his cone again looking flabbergasted. "What do you think we _do_ up there?" 

Greta leans forward, grinning madly, "My guess is...orgies!" 

Richie is quick to press his cone lightly to her cheek. She shrieks and jerks away. 

As Greta is using Richie's shirt sleeve as a napkin, Richie asks, voice soft and hesitant, "Should I tell the Losers about my...secret." The last part is whispered. 

"I can't answer that for you, Rich. You tell them when you're ready to." With that said, she leans on him and they finish their ice cream. 

Richie hadn't shown up Friday and after Eddie figured Richie wasn't coming he slumped over his desk, scowling and thinking back to the night before. 

_"Am I in love with Richie?"_

_"Do you really want me to answer that?" Bill asks, but then sees the wild look on his friend's face and says rather quickly. "Yeah, you are. Like big time. For like, ever."_

_Eddie's legs nearly give out and he directs his attention to the carpeted floor. And by the time Bill makes it to him, arms stretched out to help steady the shorter boy, Eddie is yelling, "What do you mean I'm in love with my best friend?!" Bill winces but is quick to pull him inside and close the door._

_"How can I not know I'm in love with someone?! Huh?! And why would I love Richie?! He's...He's Richie!" He begins pacing around the room, throwing his hands up in the air, "He annoys me more than half the time! And I just would know if I had feelings for someone okay?!"_

_Bill opens his mouth but is silenced by Eddie. "Wait, if you think I'm in love with Richie, does everyone?!"_

_"Can you stop yelling, please?" Bill pleads with his friend. "My parents are going to come up here."_

_"Answer me!"_

_"Yes! We all know!"_

_"Oh my god, does Richie know?!"_

_"No, he's too oblivious."_

_Eddie relaxes at that, but tenses again. "What am I going to do?!"_

_"Stop yelling for starters. Look, how does this make you feel?"_

"I don't know."

_"Take some time to think about it." Bill rests his hand on Eddie's shoulder and squeezes it. "This isn't a bad thing, Eddie."_

_"You don't hate me?"_

_"I could never...Unless you keep yelling." They smile at one another and Bill pulls him into a hug. "Congratulations, Eddie. You finally figured it out. It only took 13 years."_

_Eddie huffs out a chuckle against Bill's shoulder._

Ever since then Eddie has thought about his feelings for Richie. Eddie has always been his happiest when Richie was around. He only ever wants Richie. He loves all of the Losers with all his heart and he loves spending time with them, but it's different with Richie. If he could, he would spend every waking minute with Richie. Richie makes him feels strong and brave like Eddie could take on the world. Richie makes him laugh and he thinks that Richie is the funniest person he knows. And now that he thinks of it, he does love Richie. 

And he can't lose him, not now, not ever. He needs to find him and apologize until Richie forgives him.

Richie spent the entire weekend with Greta. The heaviness in his heart gets lighter, but still very evident. When Monday morning rolled around, he felt as though all oxygen had left his lungs. He almost fakes being sick, so he could stay home, but he's missed too much school already, and he misses cheering and the girls. He had some explaining to do when he got home on Sunday evening. He told them he and Eddie got into a bad fight, but that's it. His parents weren't happy he skipped school but tried to be understanding. And sometimes, when Richie talks about Eddie, his parents have this look in their eyes. Almost like they know his secret and that scares Richie to death. 

He picked Greta up on the way to school. She came out of her house and up to his window. "Let me drive."

"Why?"

"Your hands are shaking."

Richie quickly looks down at his hands and sure enough, they are shaking. 

"I would rather not die this young," She adds. 

Richie lets out a shuttering breath and gets out and goes around to the passenger side. When they're down the road, Greta tells him how he's going to walk into school with his head held high and that's he's going to _take no shit from no one_. Richie tries to listen but just leans against the door and stares out the window. 

When they walk into school, Greta takes hold of his hand and gives it a squeeze before letting it go. He looks to her with a tiny smile. Richie's heart stops however when he sees the Losers waiting by his locker. He quickly grabs Greta's arm and drags her around the corner. "I can't," he breathes. "Not yet."

"I'll go," she tells him. "I'll get your books for you." She wants everything to be worked out to between Richie and Eddie, but she understands why Richie isn't ready yet. Richie had been a mess Thursday. He steadily got better over the weekend, but she can see it in his eyes; the sadness, the fear. 

If she can give Richie a little extra time, then she will. 

"No, just, stay, please. I..." He's holding her hand again, but tighter, painfully tight. And his voice is full of panic. Greta nods, and holds his hand just as tight. 

They stay until the bell rings and the halls are abandoned. 

"Sorry I made you late for class," Richie tells Greta as he gets his books out of his locker. 

Greta leans back on the lockers. "Don't worry about it. I'm not in any hurry to get to _Physics_." She says the word in disgust. 

Richie sends her a rueful grin. He leans over and kisses her cheek. "Thanks, G. Want me to walk you to class?"

"Nah, you go on," she waves him off. 

Eddie is quick to hurry to his third period to see if Richie came today. When he gets to the classroom he sees Richie in his usual spot; far row, next to the window, not too far back in the room, but not too close to the front. He grins until he sees his usual spot next to Richie is occupied by a girl. And Eddie recognizes her. Her name is Rose. A small, meek, blonde girl who is on the cheer squad with Richie. 

In fact, there are no other seats next to Richie at all. He sits down in one of the available seats in the middle. 

During class, he contemplates writing everything down on a piece of paper and pass it over to Richie. But he scraps that idea. It's just that he needs to apologize to Richie so badly he feels like he's going to explode. 

_How fucking lame is that? Richie deserves better._

So, instead, he spends the class sneaking glances over at Richie. 

Richie didn't show up at lunch. Eddie didn't even see him sitting with the cheerleaders, but Greta was missing as well. Eddie plops down in his seat. "Richie is avoiding me." 

"He's avoiding all of us," Stan says dryly and then adds, "Thanks for that by the way." 

Eddie sighs. He deserves that. Besides, Eddie -and now Greta, Eddie supposes- Stan is the closest with Richie. He unpacks his lunch, not really in the mood for eating. If he could get by without eating he would, but he needs the fuel for the track. 

Richie managed to avoid all of the Losers; Eddie in History and Civics, Bill in English, Stan in Physics. He even had lunch with Greta, hiding away, backstage in the auditorium. 

And now, at cheer practice, he can unwind and have fun. The girls all hugged him. 

"I'm so glad you're back," Mary Beth told him. 

"We sure missed you," Rose told him. 

"Thanks, guys." He hugs Rose. He's appreciative of them all, especially Rose. In third period he told Rose, in a panic, to sit next to him so Eddie couldn't. She had looked at him confused but did as she was asked with a concerned look on her face. She did ask him if everything was okay, and he just sent her a smile. Because no, everything was not okay. After today, he truly might lose Eddie and possibly the Losers for good. 

"Hi, Rich." Richie turns to see Mike in his football attire. 

He swallows thickly. "Hey, Mike."

"How are you doing? We're all worried."

Richie shrugs.

"Eddie is really torn up about what happened. You know how Eddie is. He's just a little ball of anger."

Richie huffs out a laugh because if Eddie is anything he is that. He nods, "I know."

Mike smiles at him and claps Richie's shoulder before returning back to his team. 

After practice, Richie wipes his face down with a cool, damp towel. Cyndi Lauper's _Girls Just Wanna Have Fun_ ringing in his ears still. Greta loves to play music at practice, and loudly. When he looks up, he sees Eddie making his way over to him. Richie puts his towel down and meets him in the middle. 

"Richie," Eddie breathes, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "I..."

"Can you meet me at the quarry today?" Richie says quickly. 

"Uh, yeah-yeah. I can do that. I need to talk to you..."

"Tell the others to come too. 6:30."

6:30 gives Richie just enough time to shower and change and try to not talk himself out of this. 

Richie gives him a nod before turning around to leave, but Eddie grabs his arm. "Richie, wait!"

When Richie faces him again Eddie starts spewing out things he's wanted to say to Richie for days now. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean anything I said the other day. I was just...confused. If you and Greta are together then...I'm happy for you. I just want...I want you to be happy, Rich."

"I don't like Greta like that and she definitely doesn't like me like that either. I thought she told you she...nevermind."

"Just know that you're my best friend and I love you, okay?"

The lump in Richie's throat grows and he chokes out, "I love you too, Eds. I'll see you at the quarry?"

Eddie nods and Richie grins. 

And now, he sits on the cliff, feet dangling, looking out at the setting sun, the silhouetted trees against the orange and red sky almost making him forget what he is here to do. Richie needs a peaceful few moments like this before his friends arrive. 

Soon one by one the Losers drive up on their bikes and Richie stands to greet each of them. 

"What's going on, Rich?" Beverly asks after hugging him tightly. 

"Um, it's about what Eddie said the other day."

"Rich," Eddie steps forward, "if I could take it all back I would. I'm so sorry."

Richie swallows. "I know, but you asked me what else I could be hiding. And that's what upset me so badly." 

He folds his arms tightly around him and looks out over the cliff at the setting sun again. "And the truth is, yeah, I am hiding something else." 

"You can tell us, Richie, whatever it is," Bill encourages. 

"I know, I know, just it's hard. I need a minute." 

"Take all the time you need," Ben says with an encouraging smile. 

Richie groans, because God Bless Ben. Ben is so sweet. He throws his head back in frustration. He walks over to the edge of the cliff, thinking it would be easier if he wasn't looking at them. _Why is this so hard?_ He wishes Greta was here. She would hold his hand through everything. And even though she seems rough and tough, she's caring and comforting and Richie needs that right now. 

He takes his glasses off and clenching them tightly in his hand. Why is it so hard to breathe all of a sudden? 

"I couldn't ever date, Greta," he stops to swallow around the lump in his throat, "or any girl for that matter because...I'm gay." 

And with that said he steps off the cliff. 

"Richie!"

"Oh shit!

"Dumbass!"

"Rich!"

Richie hits the water and lets himself sink further and further down. At this time of day, the water surrounding him is dark and the further down he gets the darker it becomes and it's quiet, so quiet. It's comforting. 

Something plunges into the water a moment later, startling him. He swims up to the surface and Eddie joins not long after. Richie slicks his hair back, breathing deeply, but as he does this Eddie starts yelling. "Are you fucking stupid!? How could you just jump off the cliff like that? It's almost dark! And then you didn't come up right away! I thought you hit your head on the way down or some shit!"

Richie stares at this beautiful boy no more than a two feet away from him as said boy yells to the top of his lungs. "You scared me to death! What do you have to say about this? Huh?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"

"You don't hate me?" Richie hates how small his voice sounds. 

"No you dumbass! Of course I don't fucking hate you!"

Richie glances up at the top of the cliff, where the other Losers are peering down at them. They're too high up for him to read their faces. 

"And they don't hate you either! We love you, Richie. How could you think any different?"

"I was scared," his voice startling them both. It's thick and it cracks. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you guys, any of you. I wouldn't be able to take it." He sniffs. 

God, his chest hurts and his throat aches and his eyes sting and his hands are shaking so badly he's afraid he'll break his glasses. 

_I'm dying,_ he thinks. 

"Rich," Eddie whispers as he swims over to him. He pulls Richie to him and hugs his middle. "It's okay."

Richie opens his mouth to speak, but Eddie begins yelling again. "And if you ever pull a stunt like this again I'll kill you myself! It's almost dark! And you know what comes out after dark? Snakes! There are probably snakes all around us right now and-"

Richie cuts him off by grabbing wrapping his arms around Eddie and holding him tightly. "Thanks, Eds." He whispers into Eddie's shoulder. 

When they pull apart they look at each other for a moment. Richie takes in Eddie's wet hair, water droplets dripping from some of his dark locks and the water sliding down his tan face, his pink lips. 

"Um, so," Richie looks away, "um, what have I missed in class? I missed a day of Civics and then two in History. I'm going to need to borrow your notes. And-"

Eddie grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him closer, closer until their lips meet. Richie's eyes widen, but soon his hand moves to the back of Eddie's head. And Eddie's free hand rests on Richie's jaw. 

"WOO!"

"FINALLY!"

"TOOK YOU TWO IDIOTS LONG ENOUGH!"

The two part after many moments and look up at the cliff at their friends cheering them on. 

Richie looks at Eddie and they both smile. 

"So, Eds, um..."

"I love you, Richie. Just took me a while to realize it."

"I've loved you my entire life, Eddie."

Emotions wash over Eddie. Richie has loved him that long? He is trying to wrap his mind around the fact that anyone could love him so deeply. He, who has so many fears and worries and phobias. He's a complete mess and Richie still loves him. 

"Rich-" Eddie begins, touched, but Richie splashes him, cackling as he does so. 

"RICHIE!"

"I love it when you scream my name!"

"You'll be screaming in a minute!"

"Oh," Richie waggles his eyebrows up and down. 

Eddie splashes him. 

As they are sitting on rocks, after splashing each other for 15 minutes, drying off, Eddie asks, "So, does this mean that," he shrugs, "you know?"

"What?" Richie asks as he wrings out his hair. He watches as water splatters onto the gray rock.

"Does this mean we're...together?"

"Well," Richie rubs the back of his neck, "It's just that...I'm going to have to break up with your mom first. It's going to break her heart."

Eddie groans, throwing his head back. "You know what? I don't want to be with you! I changed my mind!” He slides down off the rock and goes for the trail leading back up to the cliff, where the Losers still might or not be. 

"Wait, wait, Eddie! Eds! Eddie my love! Wait, I'm sorry!" He's still laughing as he races after the other boy.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Hey, y'all! I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long, but don't worry. I'm already working out the next chapter. And to make up for me not updating in forever, I decided to write an epilogue chapter as well!~

Their friends had all hugged and congratulated them when they made it back up the cliff. Ben and Mike each hugged him so tight the air left their lungs, while Bill patted them on the back, and Stan rolled his eyes saying, "About damn time." And Beverly punched Richie's arm so hard he knows he's going to have a bruise the next day, but only a second passed before she hugged him tighter than Ben and Mike had. "I'm so proud of you," she had mumbled into his shoulder. 

Richie had dreamed of that moment so many times; his friends accepting him for who he really is. And now that he and Eddie walk their bikes home, he still can't believe it. 

The sun has nearly disappeared. The rest of the Losers disbanded to go to their homes. A slight evening air penetrates their damp clothes, chilling them to the bone. 

A weight has been lifted from his chest. His body feels weak, sagging with relief, the high wearing off from confessing his deepest, darkest secret to the people he considers family and then laying his heart open to Eddie. 

Kissing Eddie.

Just the thought makes Richie want to shout to the world that he's Eddie's and that Eddie is his. 

They stop in front of his house and Richie grips the handles of his bike. He focuses on the lit window of the living room where his parents surely are. 

"Um, so-"

"Yeah?"

"Can I...you know..."

"Yes," Eddie says on an exhale. 

Richie looks up and even in the fading light, he can see the dusting of pink across Eddie's cheeks. 

"Right," he says licking his lips and then letting out a shaky breath. 

"For God's sake, Richie!" Eddie scolds as he reaches over and grabs hold of the front of Richie's, damp, cold t-shirt. He presses his lips to Richie's. It was quick, unpracticed, and messy. And when Eddie pulls back they're both flushed. 

"S-see you tomorrow, Eds?"

"Yeah, Rich."

They stand there in silence watching one another for a moment, not wanting to part ways just yet. But Richie, unfortunately, says, "Better get home before your mom puts an APB out for you." 

Eddie swallows, suppressing the urge to groan. 

"She probably already has."

Richie doesn't reply to that, choosing instead to look at the other teen, drinking in the sight of Eddie, his _boyfriend_. Eddie's hair has fallen limp over his forehead, his hair damp, his wet t-shirt clinging to his torso, allowing Richie to see the outline of Eddie's muscles there. 

"Love you, Rich," Eddie says suddenly.

"Love you, too Eds." And then Richie kicks his bike stand out and lets go of the handlebars. He moves to Eddie who does the same after watching Richie do so. Richie wraps his arms around him and Eddie falls into him. They stand under the pale yellow light of the streetlamp on the empty street, holding each other in a much-needed embrace. 

Eddie flies past houses as he stands on the peddles of his speeding bike, the wind makes goosebumps pop out on his arms and the wind breezes through his hair, making his shiver.

Eddie feels alive. 

It's like he's been asleep all this time and now he's awake and living and in love with a boy who loves him back. He's so high, he hopes he never comes down. 

He doesn't when he walks through the front door and is met with a hysterical Sonia Kaspbrack. She's waving her arms around, almost in tears, her voice so loud he's sure the neighbors are going to call the cops on them...again. 

"EDDIE IT'S AFTER 8! IT'S DARK OUT! DO YOU KNOW WHAT'S OUT AFTER DARK? KIDNAPPERS, EDDIE!"

"Lost track of time, mom. I was with my friends. Don't worry, I was safe." He walks past her and into the kitchen where he opens the fridge and peers inside. 

"You should have-" She stops suddenly and then he hears, "YOU'RE SOAKING WET! AND IT'S COLD OUT! OH EDDIE YOU'RE GOING TO GET SICK!"

Eddie gets things out for a sandwich, his body still thrumming with what happened. 

"I'm fine, mom. I'll shower and change after I eat. I'm starving." He gets to work on making his dinner. 

"DID SOMETHING HAPPEN I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT? WHAT WERE YOU DOING? YOU BETTER NOT HAVE BEEN UP THERE AT THE QUARRY! THAT WATER IS FILTHY, EDDIE! IT'S FULL OF BACTERIA THAT LEADS TO DISEASE OR-OR CANCER! IT'S THOSE FRIENDS OF YOURS, WASN'T? THEY'RE NOTHING BUT TROUBLE, EDDIE! THEY'RE ALWAYS..."

For the first time in Eddie's life, Eddie is able to drown his mother out. He focuses on Richie. Richie's stupid, beautiful face and how surprisingly soft his lips were. 

When Richie steps inside his house he relishes in the warmth of his home as he leans on the door. His mom is curled up on the couch, while his dad reads a book in his armchair. 

"Hey, sweetie. Your dinner is on the table." His mom tells him, her eyes not leaving the television. Richie walks further into the room and sees that she's watching a rerun of _the Golden Girls_. 

"Thanks." He says moving towards the kitchen but he hears his dad speak. 

"Uh, Richie?"

Richie turns back to look at them, "Yes?"

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah, why?" he asks smiling. He hasn't stopped smiling since he and Eddie kissed at the quarry. At this point, he wonders if he will ever stop. 

"You're all wet, son."

"The guys and I were at the-"

"Wait a minute," Maggie interrupts him, "You look smitten." She grins sitting up, hugging one of the couch pillows to her chest. "What happened?" 

_She looks like one of the girls_ , Richie muses. Like when Briana or Jasmine gossiping about the football team or the baseball team.

"N-nothing. Stop being weird!" His heart is beating so fast, Richie thinks it will burst from his chest. He feels like he did when he told his friends his secret; terrified. 

"We just want to know what or who made our boy so happy! Tell us!" 

"I..." He's told his friends his secret today, why not his parents too? If they kick him out, he supposes he could stay with one of the Losers. Eddie's mom would never allow it, same with Beverly's dad, Stan's dad would kick him out after a few days, so would Mike's grandpa, but he could stay with Bill. Bill's parents don't care much about anything anymore. So, here it goes, "I...I kissed a boy today!" He almost winces. That's not what he wanted to say. 

"Oh," his mother says and he can't read her face, but then suddenly she's smiling excitedly at him. "Who was it?"

"Do we know him?" His father asks, grinning just as softly. 

"It's-it's...um..." 

"Go on, Sweetie. It's just us. It's okay." 

"It was Eddie. I told them, the Losers, that I'm..." He trails, looking down at his wet Chuck Taylors, feeling the prickling of tears once again and the aching in his throat is back, twice as big, twice as painful. 

"It's okay," his mother says much closer to him now. He feels her warm arms wrap around him and he inhales her scent as he hugs her back, feeling every bit like he was 5 years old again, safe and loved. 

"How did it go?"

"Good, they're okay with it. And Eddie, he jumped in after me-"

"Jumped in after you?" Wentworth asks as he walks over to them. 

"I may have told them and jumped off the cliff at the quarry before I could see their reactions."

Wentworth chuckles as he comes and wrangles Richie away from his mother and holds him. "That explains why you're all wet." 

Richie falls into his father's embrace.

"And well, we kissed and Eddie says he loves me and I've loved him forever. So, now we're...together." 

"We're so proud of you," his father says to him. 

He feels a gentle hand on his back. His mother rubs his back as she says, "We love you so much, baby, no matter what." And then, "Ew, but for the love of God, please go shower!"

Richie jerks away from them. "Nu-uh! You said you love me no matter what! And that's including when I smell!" 

"Richard Wentworth Tozier, you march upstairs and take a shower! And then burn those clothes when you're done!" 

Richie salutes Maggie and bows dramatically. "Yes, my Queen!" 

"Damn right I'm the Queen! Now go!" She points to the stairs and as he's passing her she smacks his behind, making his yelp in surprise. 

"Abuse! Abuse!" He yells as he runs up the stairs. He stops halfway up, "Shady Pines, ma!" 

"You are never putting me in a home, young man! I'm going to live forever!"

"Nooooo!" Richie wails from the stairs. 

"He gets it from your side of the family," Wentworth says as he settles back down in his chair and picks his book back up. 

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing with your side of the family." Maggie stands in front of him, hands on her hips. 

He smiles at her and holds his hand out. She takes it and he leads her closer and into his lap where he kisses her sweetly. 

"What's got you so happy, Tozier?" Greta says as she slides into the passenger seat of his car the following morning. 

"It's a long story. So, sit back and buckle up, Sweetheart!" He exclaims, doing his best Bogie impression. 

By the time they get to the school parking lot, Richie is just finishing the telling of the events from the night before. 

"Well," she says skeptically, "shit!" 

Richie laughs uneasily. "Yeah, so...what do you think?"

"I'm so happy for you, Richie. Just be careful." She lays a hand on his knee. 

"I will," he tells her earnestly. And then he jerks his knee out from under her hand. "For shame, G! I just told you I am in a committed relationship and here you are, making a _move_ on me! You should be ashamed of your behavior! I can see the headlines now: Lesbian makes move on gay man!" 

She rolls her eyes and punches his arm, right in the same spot Beverly hit him the night before. He yelps, rubbing the tender flesh before hurrying out of the car before she can inflict any more damage. 

The rest of the Losers are at his locker when he and Greta walk up. 

She has her hip cocked to one side, a hand on her hip. "Hey, TD," she addresses Eddie and then blows a bubble with her gum and then pops it. "If you hurt Richie again I'll staple your nut sack to the floor. And you don't even want to know what the rest of the girls will do to you." 

"What's TD?" He asks, his voice uneasy. 

"Really? That's what you took away from that?" She sighs, folding her arms over her chest. "Tiny Dick." 

"My dick is this big!" Eddie shrieks as he holds his hands about a foot apart. 

"I'm so looking forward to that," Richie says, making him and Greta and the rest of the Losers laugh and Eddie blush. 

Eddie liked Fall. It made practicing out on the track after school bearable. And he wasn't worried about having a heat stroke or getting dehydrated or sunburned.

When he stepped out onto the track later that day his eyes immediately picked out Richie on the field, among the other cheerleaders. But that's normal. Eddie always finds Richie, in a crowded hallway at school, at the arcade, when the Losers all meet up at the clubhouse or quarry, at practice.

But it is the first time he gets to watch Richie practice as his boyfriend. He doesn't have to worry about Richie catching him staring or wonder why he keeps staring at Richie. Richie is wearing that Beatles crop top that will be the death of Eddie, Eddie knows it. And short black gym shorts, his glasses nowhere to be seen. 

Eddie shakes his head. He needs to focus. He has a meet next week. He needs to beat his time and he can't do that if he's watching Richie. And God knows he can't afford to have another fall. His mother nearly had a heart attack last time. Breathing deeply through his nose, he lets it out through his mouth and begins working on his stretches. With his feet together, he bends down, touching his toes. He does this for a while, but when he stands up his eyes wander to Richie again. He curses himself and begins to go through his other stretches. 

Soon, he finds himself taking off down the track, though, his eyes once again find their way back to the cheerleaders. Greta, Rose, Mary Beth, and Jasmine are all sprawled out on the grass, while Angela fiddles with Greta's radio, Briana is using a towel to wipe away her sweat. And Richie, Richie is standing by the small cooler, one of the girls brought. His head is thrown back as he drinks from a water bottle. 

Eddie is nearing the curve of the track and here he can see the sweat glistening on Richie's stomach, on his face, can see how it runs down Richie's throat. 

Eddie's shorts slowly start to become tight and he stumbles but catches himself. With his hands on his hips, he catches his breath and will away his growing problem. He's an 18-year-old virgin, no one can blame him. Especially if his boyfriend is as beautiful as Richie Tozier. 

Once he's caught his breath and adjusts his shorts, he marches across the field and over to Richie. Richie's eye catches him and he smiles, lowering the water bottle. 

"Eds!" He waves as if Eddie hadn't already been on his way to see him. 

When he makes it to Richie he stands close. "What are you doing?!"

"Taking a break?" Richie is taken aback by his boyfriend's outburst. 

"Well, stop it and stop drinking water like that!" 

"Like what?"

"Standing here all sweaty-"

"-so you don't want me to keep hydrated?"

"-and in those clothes!"

"I always wear these to practice," Richie says confused as he picks up the end of his shirt, revealing more muscle. 

"Well, it's distracting!" He scolds trying to keep his voice down, which is hard for someone as loud as Eddie. 

Richie looks at him, a glowing smile on his lips. 

"I'm distracting you? You like what you see?" He then uses the end of his shirt to wipe away the sweat on his brow, displaying his torso. 

Eddie's face is red, whether from irritation or embarrassment or from lust, Richie doesn't know. Maybe a combination of all three. 

"You're an idiot!" He hisses. 

Richie laughs as he turns and stretches his arms high above his head, his shirt riding up to show Eddie his muscled back. He then bends over to touch his toes, giving Eddie a perfect view of his ass. 

"We're breaking up," Eddie whispers. 

"No, we're not. Because you love me." Richie whispers back, his smile so big it makes Eddie want to punch him and kiss him all at once. 

Before Eddie can say anything Richie continues, "Eds, have you ever thought about how distracting _you_ are?"

Eddie's eyebrows shoot up. "What?"

"Shit, Eddie, those shorts you always practice in. Doesn't leave much to the imagination. You're so fucking hot." 

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. No one has ever said anything like that to him before. No one has ever given him the inclination that they think he's attractive. And here Richie is, saying that he's hot. But has Richie ever looked in a mirror before? He's so fucking beautiful. 

"So are you," he mumbles. 

"Alright, lovebirds, break it up."

Eddie really hates Greta right now. 

"Chop, chop!" She claps her hands twice. "We have work to do!" 

Biting his lip he goes to tell Richie bye, but Richie says, "Wanna have dinner at my house tonight?"

"Yes," he breathes. 

Richie smiles at him. "Meet you at my car after practice?" 

"I'll be there." 

"Okay. Cool. See-!" Richie stops when someone, Greta, jumps onto his back and then someone collides into his side, knocking him and Greta over. Mary Beth is giggling as she lays on Richie's legs. "Got you!" 

"You sure did, sweethaaaht!" Richie says in his best James Cagney impersonation. 

"You're hopeless, Rich," Eddie mumbles softly as he grins at the boy who holds his heart. 

He leaves just as Jasmine shouts, "DOG PILE!" And then all Eddie hears is Richie grunting and groaning and girls giggling as they jump on him. 

Eddie makes it to Richie's car before he does. He showered and changed clothes at lightning speed, excited to be alone with Richie once again. They hadn't been alone since the night before and that hadn't been long enough. It amazes Eddie that no matter how much time he's spent with Richie, he always wants more. He lays his backpack up on the roof of the car and leans against it as he waits. It's only a couple minutes before he sees Richie coming out of the school. He all but runs to Eddie. 

Panting slightly, he smiles, "Hey, Eds."

"Hi, Rich."

Richie looks around before stepping into Eddie's space and leans down to press his lips against Eddie's. Eddie knows they shouldn't do this, not when anyone can see them, but it's just one kiss. One kiss turns into two, three, and the third one is a long one. Richie's hand rests on the car near Eddie's head, while Eddie's hands find their way to Richie's waist. They kiss until their lungs burn and beg them to stop. They pull away, gasping and panting, faces pink. It's Eddie who looks around this time. He sees no one and when his eyes fall back to Richie, they both let out soft laughs. 

"Let's go home. I'll help you with your Physics homework." 

"What a way to kill the mood, Richie," Eddie huffs. 

"Well," Richie smiles coyly, "for every question you get right, you get a kiss."

Eddie shoves his chest, making Richie stumble back, but he's laughing. 

"Get in the fucking car, you idiot!" 

"Yes, dear!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~I hope this was okay.~


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Okay y'all, it's finally here. The attempted rape/non-con. It is very, very brief! I will be putting a warning when it starts and then tell y'all when it ends. It also has a bit of violence and some homophobic language.~

Things are basically how they've always been. Richie and Eddie sit together in class and beside each other at the Losers' picnic table at lunch, they talk in between classes and at their practices after school, Eddie comes over to do homework and spends the night every weekend. But now they kiss and hold hands when they're alone or at the clubhouse or at the quarry with the Losers. And on breaks between doing homework, they makeout on Richie's bed. 

According to anyone in town or at school with the exception of the Losers and Greta and Richie's parents, Richie Tozier and Eddie Kasprack are just two friends. It's safer that way. 

Three days into their relationship, Maggie and Wentworth sat them down and voiced their concerns. Derry isn't accepting like they are and they don't want anything to happen to their boys. Eddie assured them it's secret. Both boys know that Henry and his goons wouldn't be the only ones who want to hurt or even kill them if word got out about their relationship. 

And now, two weeks later Richie was leaving school with Eddie, Bill, and Stan. He was both nervous and excited about the meet tonight. It would be the first time he would cheer Eddie on as his boyfriend. Richie isn't sure why it's any different from any other time he's cheered Eddie on, but it is. 

Greta comes up on his right. She's smiling at him connivingly. And before Richie can question her, someone is jumping on his back. He lets out a surprised noise and then he hears Rose giggling in his ear as her thin arms slide over his shoulders. 

"Ready for tonight?" 

Richie looks to Greta as he holds onto Rose, slipping his hands behind him and under her thighs. He adjusts her to get a better hold on her. 

"Yeah. Rose, you'll do my makeup, right?"

"I always do your makeup, Richie!" 

"Just checking! I can't go out there looking like this!"

Greta pinches his cheek. "Aw, you're handsome Richie. Isn't that right, TD?" She leans back, looking at Eddie from behind Richie. 

Eddie huffs. "Quit calling me that."

Everyone laughs as Eddie pouts and 'fuck', Richie loves him so much. 

Richie carries Rose out of the school and down the front steps before she taps his shoulder. As she's sliding down she says, "I'll come to the boy's locker room after I get ready, okay?"

"Sounds good, Rose Water." He kisses her cheek and Greta slugs his arm before they go their separate ways. Bill and Stan leave them with promises of seeing them at the meet later. 

"You okay?" Eddie asks once they're alone. 

"Yeah, just a little nervous about tonight." His anxiety rears his ugly head, making him say, "It's stupid." 

Eddie smiles at him softly. "You'll do great, Rich. You always do. I'll come see you before the meet and give you a good luck kiss. I know I'll do good, especially with you cheering me on tonight." 

_God_ , Richie could cry. His heart does that zing thing it always does when Eddie says things like that. 

"Okay," is the only thing he can manage to say. 

Richie can hear the crowd faintly from inside the locker room. He's alone in the gym locker room, instead of the boy's athletic one. He had decided long ago to use this one since the other is always either packed football players or the track team. He never wanted to run into a problem with them with him being a cheerleader and all. Richie knows Mike and Eddie would stick up for him in a heartbeat, but Richie doesn't want to cause any problems for his friends. 

He's dressed in his cheer uniform, sitting down on a bench as he waits for Greta and Rose to arrive to do his makeup. He has an old _Spider-Man_ comic, the corners creased and bent, and the front and back covered in indentions from being shoved into backpacks over the years. He's just getting to the part where _Spider-Man_ is stopping _Doc Ock_ from robbing a bank (for the thousandth time) when he hears the door squeak open. He smiles as he stands, closing the comic but using his finger a bookmark He turns around.

"About time you ladies came-"

There have been many times in Richie's life that he's been terrified. When he was 5 and his parents took him to the circus and a Clown jumped in front of him. Richie had cried so much his parents had to take him home. Or the time when he was 7 and he and Bill stayed up late at the Denbrough's to watch 'I was a teenage werewolf' and both he and Bill clung to each other as they watched the movie as they cried from fear. Or the time he and Bill snuck into the old abandoned Neilbolt House, they had gotten stuck in the basement for over an hour before they managed to crawl out. When he told the Losers he was gay, when he confessed his love for Eddie, when he came out to his parents. 

But nothing compares to this moment. 

Henry Bowers and Patrick Hockstetter blocking the only exit. 

"Look what we have here, Patrick?" Henry says, looking at Richie with his soulless, demented eyes. 

"Something to play with," Patrick answers, biting his lip to keep from smiling, but failing. 

Richie clenches his hands into fists at his sides so they wouldn't see them shaking. He crumbles his comic in the process. Can an 18-year-old go into cardiac arrest? Richie thinks it's about to happen. The human heart wasn't made to go this fast. He feels like all the oxygen in the room has been sucked out. And has it always been this hot in here? 

They slowly make their way to him and Richie throws his comic in a weak attempt to distract them before he darts around a set of lockers. If he can lure them away from the door, he could go to the girl's locker room. The cheer coach, Coach Jones, is always in there. Or he could go to the locker room and hide out with Eddie. 

Arms grab him by the waist and then he's thrown into some lockers, the clanking of them piercing his ears. He winces at the impact and at the lock digging into his back, on the space between his shoulder blades. 

And then Patrick is in his face. Richie can smell stale cigarettes on his breath. It's almost enough to make Richie gag.

"What are we going to do to him, Henry?"

Patrick is breathing heavily, like a dog waiting for his master to give them water on a hot day. He's looking at Richie with wide, wild eyes and an all too excited smile.

"GONNA FUCKING GUT HIM!" He yells at Patrick, then his eyes narrow on Richie, _"FAGGOT!"_

"HELP! SOMEBODY! PLEASE!"

Henry slugs him across the face, making Richie's head collide to the lockers behind him. Richie whimpers, his eyes stinging with tears as pain blooms at the back of his head. 

"We saw you and Kaspbrack making out in the parking lot last week. We would have got you then, but I was too busy throwing up my fucking guts! And now," Richie watches as Henry flicks his blade out. He points it at Richie, his smile growing. 

"Or we can try somethin' else," he hears Patrick saying. It sounds far away like he's underwater. 

"What do you have in mind?"

~Okay, this is the start of the non-con~  
Patrick presses his body into Richie's and brings a hand down to the waistband of Richie's cheer pants. His fingers graze the skin there and Richie can't stop the tears that fall from his eyes. 

_He couldn't possibly mean...?_

"What the hell, man?!" Henry yells. "You're a faggot too?!"

"Trust me, Henry. It'll hurt him more than any beating ever could." 

"He'll like it though!" Henry yells in disgust. 

"Not the way I'll do him." 

It's quiet for a minute before, "I don't know, dude...Alright! Fine! Go on! Make him cry some more! Make it hurt!" 

"I plan to," Patrick breathes into Richie's ear. And then his lips are on Richie's neck, biting down on the sensitive flesh hard. Richie's whimpers are swallowed by Patrick's lips. Patrick forces his tongue in Richie's mouth and Richie's stomach churns. He feels Patrick hardness against his leg and Richie's heart hammered against his chest so hard he just knows that Patrick can probably feel it. Richie struggles against him and Patrick moans as Richie rubs against his jean-clad erection. Richie can't breathe through his panic and increasing anxiety and with Patrick's tongue assaulting his mouth doesn't help. He keeps trying to breathe through his nose, but he can't. He can't breathe. His lungs burn, screaming for air he can't get. 

Richie turns his head quickly, trying to escape from Patrick's lips. He tries to gulp in as much air as he can, but he's still struggling. Patrick's lips are on his neck again, biting and sucking and Richie want to throw up. He sees that Henry is standing just a foot away, arms crossed over his chest, knife in hand, as he watches grinning. ~End of the non-con.~

Something jumps up on Henry's back.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" He yells, ducking, and trying to grab at whoever was on his back.

It's Greta and Richie almost laughs in relief. 

She reaches around with both hands and digs her nails into Henry's flesh and drags them back across his cheeks, leaving behind bloody trenches.

He screams, "AHHH! Patrick! Get this crazy bitch off me!" 

Patrick's body is no longer against Richie's and Richie can almost breathe right again. He watches as Patrick rushes to help Henry. Richie is quick to push him as hard he can. Patrick goes down, his chin hitting the floor, jarring him for only a moment. He gets back up, making his way to Henry once again, but is stopped in his tracks by Rose. 

And Rose, dear sweet Rose, is so small and kind and sweet looking, she screams innocence. She looks like she couldn't hurt a fly. But now, she looks...pissed off. She has a bat clenched in her hands. She swings the bat back and hits Patrick in the shoulder. Patrick shrieks and goes to his knees as he clutches his shoulder. 

Henry is still flailing around with Greta on his back, so Richie kicks out a leg. Henry trips over Richie's extended leg and stumbles over it and Greta rides him to the ground, yanking on his hair. She pulls his head back and then slams it into the ground. Rose swings the bat again and this time she hits Patrick in the knee and then again on his back. 

"Okay, okay," Henry says sobbing, his voice thick with panic and blood, "we give up! We give up!" 

Greta finally lets go of him and gets up. Henry gets to his feet, his nose bleeding from the impact against the floor, and then deep claw ridges on his cheeks have blood running down his face. Henry grabs up Patrick, Patrick yelping when he puts weight on his bad knee, and they leave the locker room. Rose chases after them with the bat. "Don't mess with cheerleaders, you meanies!" 

Once they're out of sight, Richie slumps against the lockers and it isn't long before his knees can no longer hold his weight and he slides down the metal wall. 

"Richie!" Greta kneels next to him, touching his shoulder gently. "Richie, are you okay? I mean, I know you're not. Oh shit! Just-just say something!"

"I'm fine," he looks up at her with watery eyes and wet cheeks. 

He lets out a shuddering breath. "Um, I'm fine. I..." A sob is ripped from his lips catching him off guard and Greta wraps her arms around him and pulls him to her. He cries into her chest. God, he can't breathe. Why can't he breathe? He feels another set of hands on him; one rubbing his leg, the other on his back. Rose. Richie would know her tiny hands anywhere. They stay like that for a few moments before they hear, "What the fuck happened? Richie, oh my god. Are you okay?"

"Eds," Richie says so brokenly it makes them all wince. 

Rose scoots away, letting Eddie take her place, but leaves a hand on Richie's leg, wanting him to know she was there, wanting him to have as much comfort as possible. Richie moves and buries his head into Eddie's chest and Eddie's arms circle around him. Eddie looks to Greta and Rose, who are now holding hands in such a tight grip that their knuckles are white. 

"It was Bowers and Hockstetter," Greta says uneasily.

"It was bad," Rose whispers, her voice quivering. 

"Rich, Rich, hey," he manages to cup Richie's face in his hands, forcing Richie to look at him. "Breath, honey, breathe. Breathe with me, okay? Watch what I do." Eddie breathes deeply through his nose and then out through his mouth. 

It takes a few minutes, but Richie and Eddie eventually manage to even his breathing. 

"Let's go home, Rich." Eddie says once he wasn't worried that Richie would pass out. He kisses the top of his head. "Let's just go home, okay?"

Eddie didn't know what else to do. Maybe things would be better if he got Richie away from this locker room, away from everyone. He wants to lay Richie down in his bed and hold him until his sobs and shakes stopped. 

"What about your meet?"

"Fuck my meet, Richie! You're more important!"

"No," Richie whimpers, shaking his head. "No, you've worked too hard. And, please, I want to cheer. I just want to...cheer. Please, let me, Eddie." 

Eddie looks into his eyes for a long time, searching, for what, he isn't sure. Eddie wants to tell Richie he never has to ask his permission for anything, especially for him to cheer. But instead, he says, his voice heavy with reluctance, "Okay." 

Rose gets up and comes back with toilet paper and her makeup case. Richie uses the toilet paper to wipe away his tears and snot. He takes another deep breath, which hurts his chest. He pushes himself up on unsteady feet and straddles the nearest bench. Rose sits right in front of him, so close to Richie that she's almost sitting between his legs. She begins applying primer. Richie sees Eddie and Greta leaned over on the lockers, whispering to each other. Greta is clutching his crumbed Spider-Man comic to her chest. 

After the primer, on goes the concealer, and then the foundation and powder. Rose finally gets to works on the eye shadow. She uses a combination of shimmery white and dark, emerald green; their school colors. 

"Richie, you're so pretty," Rose tells him as she blending the eye shadow in. "And I've always thought your glasses were cute, but now with your contacts, you can really see your eyes. They're beautiful. And you're hair is so dark and curly! You'll never need any hairspray or mousse." Richie smiles as she continues her praise, "And you have good skin! I've never seen a blemish on you."

She moves onto the eyeliner next. 

"I'm a little jealous that Greta has you all to herself all the time. You should come over to my house sometime and we can have a sleepover, just the two of us! We can do facials and paint our nails, the whole nine yards! And we all know how much you love _Dirty Dancing_ , but have you seen _Pretty in Pink_?" Richie is about to tell her no when her face lights up, "Oh! And _Far and Away_! Oh, please say you'll come over soon and watch them with me! They're life-changing!" She begins the process of applying mascara. 

"I promise," he tells her and he means it. 

She tells him to pucker his lips so she can apply lip gloss. She then tells him to them rub them together. "All done!" She announces, grabbing Greta's and Eddie's attentions. 

"What do you think?" She holds up a small, compact mirror. She did more makeup than usual this time. Usually, she just puts on a bit of concealer and eyeliner and mascara, but she went all out this time. 

He loves it. 

Greta and Eddie walk over to them. 

"You look so fucking pretty, Richie!" Greta says, giving him a small, encouraging smile. 

Richie looks to Eddie apprehensively. 

"So pretty," Eddie agrees with a smile, and with such love in his eyes it makes Richie flush. 

Richie smiles and _God_ , Eddie could cry. He is so intensely aware of how much he loves this boy in front of him that it sends an ache to his chest. 

"Let's give these two a minute alone, Rose," Greta says. 

Rose quickly packs her things away. She looks up at Richie when she's finished. Her fingertips find his chin, lifting his head so he can look at her. 

"Now, no more tears." She smiles ruefully at him. "Don't want to undo all my hard work, you beautiful thing you." 

When she gets up she kisses the top of his head. Greta does too and then the two leave. Eddie takes Rose's spot on the bench. 

"Are you sure you want to go out there?" His eyebrows knit together in concern as he watches Richie's face for any sign of reluctance. 

"Yes. It'll take my mind off of what happened a little. Besides, I want to cheer my lovely boyfriend on at his meet. But I can only go on and give a mind-blowing performance if I get a kiss from said lovely boyfriend."

Eddie's eyebrows relax a little. Richie doesn't sound like Richie. He sounds tired and sad and all joking sounds forced. He doesn't want Richie to have to go out there and perform. He wants to take Richie home and tuck in him in bed and hold him until he falls asleep. But he grins and leans forward, capturing Richie's lips. When he pulls back, he grimaces. "Ugh, lip gloss is so sticky." He rubs his lips together, trying to smear it in. 

Richie laughs at him. "I like it. This one's minty. I hate it when she puts something gross on me like cotton candy or bubble gum."

The door opens again and Richie tenses for only second until he hears Greta. "Rich, we have to go."

"Coming!"

He turns back to Eddie and Eddie grabs hold of his hand. Giving it a light squeeze he says, "I'll see you after the meet, okay?"

Richie nods. 

Eddie leans over and kisses Richie lightly on the lips. 

"I love you." 

"I love you too, Eds." 

"I got one! I got one!" Greta says, from her spot next to Richie, hitting the table excitedly.

After the game, the Losers and the cheerleader's all went to Benny's diner for food and shakes. They piled into one of the larger booths in the back and some pulled up chairs. 

Everyone quiets down for Greta's joke. 

"I farted at work the other day...and my coworker started trying to open a window. It must have been pretty bad because we were on a submarine!"

There's a chorus of laughs and "ew's". And Richie high fives her proudly. 

"Oh no!" Stan groans throwing his head back. "She's a female version of Richie!" 

"Hey! I take offense to that! My dick is bigger!" Greta shouts. 

Richie shoves her, saying, "Ohhh! Whatever! We haven't properly compared our dicks yet!" 

She laughs, shoving him back. 

Mary Beth and Angela flocked to Bill, both leaning in close as he talks about the last short story he wrote. Rose is listening intently as Ben talks about the new chocolate chip cookie recipe he's created as Beverly smiles at him sweetly. Briana is talking to Stan about birds(who knew she liked them too?), while Mike switches from listening to her and gazing at Stan. Jasmine and Eddie are in deep conversation about something medical-like, Richie doesn't understand it all. 

Greta bumps her shoulder against his, grabbing his attention. 

"You okay?"

Richie takes one more glance at the occupants seated around the table. Two groups who seems like they're from different worlds, two groups who aren't all that different after all. And Richie loves them all. 

Grinning, he turns back to her. "Yeah, I'm good. I'm glad we're all here together."

"It's different," she nods, a soft smile gracing the corner of her mouth, "but a good different."

Glancing to his right to look at Eddie, waving his hands around as he talks excitedly to Jasmine, his grin widens. "Yeah, it is." 

"Do you think Rose and Greta like-like each other?" Eddie asks as he stares up at the ceiling in Richie's bedroom. 

Richie sets his comic down, having not really been reading it and rolls over in his bed to look at his boyfriend. 

"I don't know. I'll ask her Monday!"

"You can't just ask that!"

"I can ask Greta anything! She's my best friend. She won't care."

Eddie huffs. "I'm your best friend." 

"I know that," Richie smiles amused. "What I meant is that Greta is my best friend besides you." 

"That's more like it."

A laugh bubbles out of him and presses a kiss to Eddie's temple before reaching over to turn off the lamp, encasing them in complete darkness. 

"Tonight was fun," Eddie says. 

"It was," Richie grins, "I loved having everyone together." 

"It was nice getting to know the girls."

"They're great! I can't wait for us all to hang out again."

Silence falls upon them for a moment before Eddie's voice breaks through the quiet room. 

"Rich?"

"Hm?"

"How are you doing?"

"My face hurts where Bowers hit me and my head hurts a little too."

When they got to Richie's room after the diner, Eddie demanded to know each and every one of Richie's injuries. When Richie told him he hit his head against the lockers Eddie freaked out. _You hit your head and then you went out cheered? What the hell is wrong with you, Tozier?!_ And now it's 2 A.M. Eddie kept Richie awake so he wouldn't slip into a coma, which Richie had laughed at. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't there." 

"You can't be with me all the time, Eds. Besides, I'm fine, really."

"If Greta and Rose hadn't come when they did Patrick would have-"

"I know what Patrick would have done!" Richie bursts out. "For God's sake, Eddie just stop bringing it up! Please! I'm fine!"

"Richie," Eddie breathes in shock, in regret. 

It's quiet between them for a long time before Richie lets out a quiet sob. "I was really scared." 

Eddie moves over and wraps his arms around Richie, bringing him closer to him. Richie buries his face in the crook of Eddie's neck. 

"I was scared," he repeats. "I never felt anything like that before. I felt so fucking helpless and weak. I wanted to just die just so I couldn't feel anymore."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to any of that. He stays quiet for a long time until he says into Richie's hair, "You're not weak or helpless. You're strong and brave. Do you think that any of the guys at our school had the courage to be a cheerleader? No!"

Richie sniffs, his sobs coming to a stop as he listens to his boyfriend sing his praise. 

"And you say and do whatever you want. God, Rich, I wish I was half as brave as you are. I've looked up to you since we were kids."

"That's because I've always been taller," Richie mumbles into Eddie's neck. 

"I'm trying to fucking compliment you and here you are making jokes about my height!"

Richie sniffs again. "Thank you, Eddie my love. Now, kiss me you fool!"

Eddie wishes Richie can see him rolling his eyes. The first try he kisses Richie's nose and then the second time he gets his cheek. The third time he gets his lips. 

"Can I say something really cheesy?" Richie asks once they break the kiss. 

"Don't you always?" 

"My favorite part of tonight wasn't cheering or having all my friends together. It's been laying right here in bed with you."

Eddie doesn't speak, can't speak around the lump that appeared in his throat. He blinks away the stinging in his eyes. No one has said something so beautiful to him before. 

"Rich..." He breathes in surprise. 

"I'm going to try and get some sleep. God knows I'm going to have nightmares for a week."

Eddie tightens his hold on his boyfriend and before he can say anything to comfort his boyfriend, Richie continues, "Rose is fucking terrifying when she's angry! Trust me, I'll be seeing her in my nightmares." Eddie lets out a watery laugh as he buries his face in Richie's hair, breathing in his scent. Eddie's favorite thing in the world is laying here with Richie. It always been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~I hope this was okay. And I hope everyone is okay after reading this. Epilogue is next! I sadly haven't written it yet, but have the whole chapter planned out!~


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is really late, but here you go! I'm sad to see this end, but I think it's time. Though, I'm not proud of the way I ended this. Let me know y'all think! I love to hear back from you!

The school year seemed to go by too quickly for Richie's liking. Most high school seniors can't wait for their last year to end, to finally leave their old lives behind and start over new. And Richie is looking forward to moving to California with the Losers and getting a place with Eddie, but he will miss the girls and cheering. The girls are being spread all over the U.S. and Jasmine is even going off to Oxford. The Losers all managed to get into schools within an hour of each other, not being able to bear the thought of being separated. Greta will be a two-hour drive away and Richie is thankful it isn't further. He doesn't think he could manage to be so far away from her after she's become an important part of his life. 

In October the Losers and Cheerleaders went to Angela's Halloween party. Richie and Greta dressed up as Johnny and Baby from Dirty Dancing. Greta ended up challenging one of the football players, dressed as Tom Cruise's character from Risky Business. 'I can out drink you, asshole!' She had yelled, pointing a finger at him. She won but spent the night puking in Angela's bathroom as Richie held her hair back. 

The Losers had all met up in the clubhouse on Christmas day and exchanged gifts while munching on Ben's homemade gingerbread men cookies and sugar cookies.

Richie took Eddie out on Valentine's day. They ate Cheeseburgers and milkshakes and saw a movie, "Kuffs". They had to be discrete while they ate. No one could know they were on a date. And sure, Richie would have loved to hold his hand across the table and even lean over to kiss him because he wanted to show Eddie off. He wanted the world to know about their love. But Richie still enjoyed the evening. Eddie had looked beautiful, as always, wearing just a t-shirt and jeans. He knew Eddie enjoyed himself too. And Richie remembers just how much fun they had when they made out in the back seat of Richie's car after he drove them out to a wooded area. 

And now as Richie gets ready for the prom, he can't help the sadness that comes over him. They have just under two months of school left. No more cheering with the girls, no more seeing Greta every day, and no more teasing with his parents daily. Damn, he's going to miss everyone. He straightens his bowtie and looks himself over once more in the mirror before walking out of his room and down the stairs. He's blinded by a flash as soon as he gets to the bottom of the steps and as he's rubbing his eyes, he hears his parents. 

"I told you to warn him!"

"But dear, I wanted a candid photo!"

"Oh, Went," Maggie sighs.

"Eddie will have to be my eyes now, thanks, dad!" Richie says, still blinking rapidly to get rid of the splotches of color dancing in his vision. 

"Well, since you're already blinded from the first flash," his dad begins and holds his camera up and begins taking picture after picture. 

He already had shitty vision, but at this rate, he will be blind as a bat by the end of the night. 

His mother laughs, as she gently places her hand on top of her husband's camera, lowering it. "Alright, dear, he's had enough. Save some film for when everyone gets here." 

To avoid all the assholes at their school, the Losers and Greta and Rose decided to have their own prom. Wentworth and Maggie loved the idea and volunteered their home. His dad spent hours hanging up decorations, while his mother slaved in the kitchen; making food and snacks and punch. He looks around and smiles. 

"Everything looks great." 

"Are you sure there's enough to eat?" His mother frets as she moves a plate on the food table, lining it up with the others. 

"There's enough to feed the entire school, mom." 

"The stereo plays cassettes and 8-tracks. I got the record player out too," his dad shows him the devices on the entertainment center. 

"Thanks, dad." 

Wentworth raises his hand to ruffle his son's curls, but his hand freezes mid-air, not wanting to mess up his son's hair up right before his friends arrive. Instead, he pats his son's shoulder. 

It's not long before his friends start to arrive. First Greta and Rose, followed by Ben and Beverly, and then Stan, Mike, and Bill and Mary Beth. Eddie arrives and Richie's breath catches in his throat.

Wentworth takes pictures of everyone together, of the couples, of every combination. He uses three rolls of film before Maggie makes him put it away. "Richie, we're staying at the Holiday Inn in Jerusalem's Lot." The next town, Richie thinks, he has the best parents in the world, but he also guesses because there aren't any nice hotels in Derry and his parents deserve the best. "I left the number on the fridge. Call us if you need anything. I would say no drinking, but who am I kidding. So, no sex, please."

"And if you're going to have sex, that goes any of you," he points to the others, "make it safe sex, I beg of you!" 

Richie hangs his head in embarrassment. "Okay, bye, I love you. Thanks for everything!" He says quickly. Maggie kisses his forehead and blows a kiss to the others. 

As soon as the door closes behind them, Greta says, "Let's get this show on the road!" She turns the record player on and Trooper's "Raise a Little Hell" blasts through the record's speakers. Richie laughs as Eddie takes his spot next to his boyfriend. 

Richie steps in front of him, bowing dramatically, arm extended towards the shorter boy. "May I have this dance, Edward?"

Eddie rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "You're so fucking lame, _Richard_." 

Richie grabs onto both of Eddie's hands and swings him around. They laugh as they dance around their friends. They alternate between dancing and grazing on the food for hours until a slow song comes on. 

Richie looks over to see Ben standing next to the record player, looking down shyly, but Richie can still see the flush in his cheeks. He turns back to face Eddie and before he knows what he's doing, his arms are settling on Eddie's shoulders, while Eddie's rest on his waist. 

Neither boy knows how to slow dance, so they sway back and forth as Otis Redding's voice croons over the speakers. Eddie lays his cheek against Richie's shoulder and Richie's heart beats just a little faster as it always does when Eddie does anything. 

Richie smiles and looks at the others in the room. Ben is quite good, moving his feet and spinning him and Beverly around, Bill is grinning at Mary Beth as they dance close. Rose is smiling shyly as Greta leads them around the room, and even in the low lighting, Richie can see how red Stan's cheeks are red as he's circled in Mike's arms. Richie's heart tightens at the way Mike is gazing at their Stan. 

Richie lowers his face, resting his cheek on the top of Eddie's head. 

"I never thought I could have this," Richie whispers.

"Me neither," Eddie whispers back. 

"You're all I've ever wanted, Eds."

How is it that Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier can degrade his mother and say the dirtiest and stupidest jokes and then go say things like this? Speechless, Eddie tightens his hold on Richie's waist and buries his face deeper into his chest. 

Greta and Rose dance by them, Greta knocking her shoulder into Richie's. When he looks at her, she tilts her head across the room. Richie follows her gaze and is so shocked by what he sees. He nudges Eddie up for him to look over as well. 

In the middle of the living room, stands Stan and Mike. Stan is gripping the lapels of Mike's suit jacket, forcing the taller boy down to his level as Stan kisses him with everything he has. Mike's eyes are wide and he seems too shocked to do anything. 

Eddie's mouth drops open and Richie can't help but fist bump the air and shout, "Alright, Stan the Man! Get it," and throws in a few whoops as well. There is a soft chorus of claps and cheers before they all go back to dancing. 

Richie's arms go back around Eddie, pulling him close. Eddie falls into Richie's embrace, both boys thinking about how perfectly they fit together. 

The following morning, everyone is awoken by the smell of cooking. Richie and Eddie stumble out of his room, just in time to see Rose and Greta come out of Wentworth and Maggie's room, and the two couples make their way downstairs. Beverly is sat on the kitchen counter, a glass of orange juice in hand. She's talking with Ben as he cooks at the stove. 

Stan and Mike are nowhere in sight, so Richie figures they are still asleep on the pullout couch in the living room.

It smells amazing; bacon sizzling on the stove as Ben flips pancakes. 

Bill and Mary Beth stumble up the stairs from their cots in the basement. Bill yawns as Mary Beth rubs the sleep from her eyes. Richie and Eddie take their seats at the kitchen table just as Ben sets down a large plate of pancakes in the center of the table, followed by a plate of bacon, and a plate of fried eggs. 

"Stan and Mike," Richie yells, "You better have not fucked on my couch! That's where we watch television! And my mom reads on that co-" Richie stops when Eddie elbows him in the ribs, hard. Riche rubs the sore spot as Ben walks into the living room and calmly tells the two that breakfast is ready. 

Once Stan and Mike come in and everyone is seated, they all dig in. The room is full of laughter, shared kisses between the couples, and good food. Richie's smile grows when he feels Eddie's hand slide into his under the table. 

Richie's life is nowhere near perfect, but it's pretty damn close.


End file.
